


My Strange Addiction

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angry Sex, Animal Death, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Cannibalism, Car Accidents, Electrocution, F/M, False Accusations, Infidelity, Insanity, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Non-Consensual Touching, Partners in Crime, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You thinkvoices in my headmade me do it?” Tyler asks, the words tasting bitter.Josh doesn’t know what to say.“There are novoices, Doctor. Just me.”
Relationships: Josh Dun/Debby Ryan, Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph
Comments: 35
Kudos: 40





	My Strange Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> i watched some weird hannibal edit and this popped into brain
> 
> there are a lot of trigger warnings, the main ones are tagged but there are some minor ones not tagged  
> just beware of touchy subjects, my dears 
> 
> songs you can listen to during or after reading::
> 
> my strange addiction- billie eilish  
> lurk- the neighbourhood  
> sippy cup- melanie martinez  
> framed- eminem  
> angel of small death and the codeine scene- hozier  
> far too young to die- panic! at the disco  
> nicotine- panic! at the disco  
> everybody’s watching me (uh oh)- the neighbourhood  
> NO FUN- joji 
> 
> there might be references to these songs throughout ;) find them

“Hello, Mr. Joseph.” 

What a place to be in, huh? One of the nation’s highest security mental prisons, and Dr. Joshua Dun gets the honor of stepping through their many sets of monitored doors. Maybe it’s just one of the perks of his job.

Though he feels like these bars aren’t enough, like there should be something more..substantial between him and this maniac-his new patient. 

This maniac, who’s writhing around in his straight jacket and licking at his lips like Josh is his next meal.  
He’s scrawny, wiry and messy but still clever enough that Josh wouldn’t ever want to meet him in a dark alley. The clothes he wears beneath the jacket make it quite known that he’s been here a while. The number printed on the fabric reads _0013_ over and over and over.

His curly brunette hair is tacky, stuck to one side as if someone had been pulling on it for a long time. His eyes are tired, yet intrigued. They themselves intrigue Josh. What secrets do they hold? What have they seen?

“You’re Dr. Dun?” Tyler asks, head tilting uncomfortably sideways. A grin splits his face, revealing rows of crooked teeth.  
He likes this. “Hi.” 

He’s going to eat this man alive. 

He looks easy, too. Married, telling by the ring on his finger. Too many laugh lines, scrunched up eyes, he’s too happy. His glasses make him look smarter than he probably is. Tyler can tell he’s not going to like this job as much as the supervisors told him he would. But they all tell them that.  
He wonders what Josh’s paycheck is going to be like.

He’s pretty, over anything; Tyler likes a pretty face.

“You do understand why I am here, don’t you, Tyler?” Josh asks, trying to keep his composure because _God_ , is he on edge right now. Tyler is staring a fucking hole into his forehead so he keeps his own gaze on the lab sheets he was given beforehand. 

_Patient: Tyler Joseph_

_Age: 26. DOB: 12/01/93_

_Reason for induction: Several counts of murder, cannibalism, arson..(See full list on page 42 of patient records.)_

_Mental Status: Clinically insane-pathological liar. DO NOT TRUST. Tests for personality disorder/s not yet conducted. Contact medical records when ready to update with results._

”I don’t understand a lot of things, Mr. Dun.”

Tyler arches his back-he moves as if something is underneath that straight jacket and he’s determined to get it out.  
“But you’re gonna try and make me better, aren’t you?”  
He says it as if this is simply a routine checkup and he’s caught a cold. 

”Just like the other doctors.”

Josh looks up.  
“I suppose you could say that.”  
_Others? They never said anything about any prior physicians before him._  
He really wishes there was more lighting in this place. Seeing the shadows cast over Tyler’s sunken cheeks gives him an eerily comparison to a skeleton. 

Tyler never stops moving. He never stops breathing like it’s his last breath and never stops staring at Josh like he wants to _pin him down and annihilate him._  
“I love it when they do that,” He chirps. 

If he weren’t doing it for the money, Josh would probably have taken this job purely for the absolute experience of conducting experiments on such an outstandingly insane patient. In all his years of psychology training and testing, he’s never seen someone this...gone. 

It seems, he concludes, that Tyler is a rare case-a rare case in which he is so gone, in fact, that he has a sort of genius to him.  
Perhaps that’s why he’d gotten away with almost forty-six crimes before the police finally caught up to him. He was serial, someone who anyone was afraid of under the right circumstances. 

It didn’t help that he’d eat his victims. 

Josh sees his mugshot on his reports and there’s not a single scrap of remorse in Tyler’s cheesing grin.  
He feels this will be difficult.

“I’m going to ask you to cooperate with me, is that okay, Tyler?”  
Josh has to focus on the task and hand and stop ogling at this creature in front of him.  
“We’re going to conduct some small tests to begin, just to see how that brain of yours is working.” 

Somewhere, he can hear the hissing of those deadbolt, airtight doors being opened. His eyes flicker to the camera in the corner of the room. 

“I love those,” Tyler tells him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off him since he entered the room, and Josh is pretty sure he hasn’t fucking blinked, either.  
“Just-one thing, Doctor..”

Josh furrows his eyebrows. “Yes?” 

“Will you hold my hand? I get awfully scared of needles and stuff.”

He replies over his shoulder as the guards enter in front of him, keys and thumbprints and codes finally opening the cell in front of him.  
“I will try my best to make sure you’re not scared.” Though he doesn’t believe that one bit.

Tyler is shouldered by the guards, who are at least five times bigger than this scrawny little psycho.  
“I promise I’ll be a good boy this time,” He says to the bigger of the two with a mock-innocent voice. “No more hitting or _anything_.”

He flashes one of them-the one he’s more familiar with-a cheeky smile.  
“Though you like it when I’m bad, don’t you?”

”Shut up before I break your fucking arm again,” Is the grumbled reply he gets. Apparently, according to those helpful records Josh has been flipping through, Tyler has tendencies to lash out, resulting in the security job being filled by different persons every few months. The taller of these two must be seniority.

Tyler gives Josh a sly look when they brush past him, then looks back up at the guards ushering him to the lab.  
“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Apparently, it was one of the guards’ first days-the shorter one, Josh could tell he was uneasy-as they hissed out a profanity and knocked Tyler’s leg out from underneath him with his foot in a way of makeshift punishment.

”Little shit. Learn to keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Tyler falls straight on his face and Josh hears a dull thud. His giggles are muffled and he squirms in his straight jacket.

”Ex-Excuse me, yeah, hi,” Josh interrupts, scooting forward in front of the security. “Was that really necessary? I’d rather have my patient in one piece, thanks.”

He doesn’t care to listen to the names he’s being called because Tyler is humming something into the darkening pool of blood around his face and he seems to be smearing it all over himself.

He kneels down and sees Tyler’s already crooked, curved nose is even more so, indicating that he’s broken it from the hard fall onto the cement floor. Blood pours over his lips-actually, since he decided to rub his face all over the floor, it’s everywhere, giving him a gaunt, zombie-fied look. He smiles at Josh.

”They hurt me,” He gurgles.

”Yeah,” Josh sighs.

It’s a simple clean up, but Josh leaves it for the janitors. He doesn’t make eye contact with the security until they’re in the safety of the lab and Tyler is cuffed to an examination table with a piece of cotton shoved up his nose. Josh can set it in a brace later.

The lab is a company one-obviously not as personal and a bit uninviting, cold, and too organized for Josh’s taste; nothing like his own office at home. But it’s not like they were looking for patient comfort when building this into the prison.  
Is it a prison? Or a mental institution? Maybe both.

Tyler kicks his legs and jingles the chain clamped around his ankle with his foot.

”I’m going to take your jacket off to do some blood work,” Josh starts, and he’s already uneasy. “I can trust you, can’t I? You know I’m not here to hurt you.”

Tyler hesitates for a minute, drinking in Josh’s full form before saying, “Right.”

He likes Josh’s lab coat. He likes things that are pristine and white; maybe it’s just because he likes to see them stained red.  
Even better than the color white, though, was the feeling of freedom as Josh unclipped every single lock restraining his arms.

First, he shivers. The artificial light almost hurts his skin.

”Haven’t seen these in a while, I assume?” He asks, slightly amused by Tyler’s tilted glance at his flexing fingers, his bending and straightening arms.

They’re pretty. A bit pale, but beautifully designed with ink. Josh has a few tattoos of his own, but these are much simpler. Lines, boxes-he thinks it’s Latin, maybe? Things he doesn’t know the meaning of, and probably never will.

”Years,” Tyler answers, cracking his knuckles. “Only time they take me out is when I’m unconscious.”

His right wrist is handcuffed to the table-just a safety procedure, of course-and Josh almost feels a little bad when he does it.  
That feeling quickly fades. He has a job to do.

He already has Tyler’s left arm in his hands-the veins popping from his forearms were incredible, and he can feel the brunette’s stare on the side of his head-swabbing, poking, squeezing and preparing the skin for the needle he was about to insert.

”Can I keep it?”

Josh looks up, fingers pressing for a pulse on his wrist. “What?”

”The blood,” Tyler says. “Can I keep it? Afterwards?”

What an odd request.

Josh chuckles-he’s getting nervous, but don’t tell anyone. He slips a pair of latex gloves on. “I’m afraid not.”

”Why?”

”It’s a biohazard,” Josh explains. “A biohazardous compound waste, in technical terms. All blood, skin, anything that comes from anyone’s body gets specially disposed of, no matter where it comes from.”

”What are you testing it for?” Tyler asks next, and it almost seems like he’s playing dumb.

Josh rips a few pieces of medical tape off onto his fingers to make sure the needle doesn’t move when it enters Tyler’s skin. “Normal things. How your liver, heart, kidneys are doing..checking for diseases like AIDS, anemia, stuff like that. Just looking for any abnormalities.”

Tyler swings his legs some more and makes a song out of his cuffs. Josh sticks a needle in his arm and all he does is watch, unfazed, as that thickened dark liquid seeps through the tubes Josh was guiding into many different vials.

”You’re expecting a lot more from me, aren’t you?”

The first two vials are filled. Josh doesn’t take his eyes off them. “What do you mean by that?”

Tyler tries to raise his right hand, but the only thing that happens is that the cuffs dig into his skin, deeper and deeper until he finally gives up. He jerks it around as he says nonchalantly, “I don’t act like a psychopath, do I Josh?”

“Some of the world’s most known psychopaths are famous simply because of their ability to act unassuming,” Josh replies, and he’s only a little afraid because he knows there is still security right outside the door.

”Funny,” Is Tyler’s answer.

It’s quiet afterwards. There’s only one vial left, but Josh can’t bring himself to look up from his work.  
”If you feel dizzy or light-headed, let me know,” He says to fill the silence.

”I never do,” Tyler replies.

 _Of course not,_ Josh thinks. _You were arrested with four gunshot wounds and a broken collarbone. Of course you don’t get dizzy when losing blood._

Once the vials are filled he removes the needle from Tyler’s arm, covering the slowly oozing spot with a cotton ball and medical tape.  
Then it’s just the waiting game while he sends the blood samples in for testing.

When he turns, gloves snapped off into the garbage bin, he sees Tyler ripping his makeshift bandage off with his teeth.

”I don’t like those,” He explains after spitting it out on the floor. His arm beads with a tiny drop of blood again before it starts running down his forearm.

”I’m going to need you to keep that on,” Josh says. “Please,” He adds after a thought.

Tyler stares at him, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He jerks his free hand up, literally centimeters from Josh’s face, as if he were really about to strike him.  
Instead he just takes the bloody cotton from his nose and lets it fall onto the floor with an unsatisfying _plop_.

Josh flinches. Hard. He regrets that. But thinks twice about getting up in Tyler’s face to actually set that broken nose.  
“That’s not funny, Tyler,” He says slowly, trying his next move because he really doesn’t know what Tyler’s motive is here. What is he trying to gain?  
“Do you want security in here too?”

Tyler doesn’t answer. He just stares at the space between them. He just stares.

A shiver runs up Josh’s back. He doesn’t know whether to stand his ground-here, in front of a psycho, weird little serial killer-or cower away and possibly ruin his entire experimental plan.

Tyler chooses for him.

”You’re afraid,” He says simply, not even as an observation but as a stone cold fact. He knows.  
Then he really does touch Josh, his scabbed knuckles burying themselves in the fabric of his shirt until they’re nose to nose. The rush of it takes Josh’s breath away. Tyler smells like sterilized uniforms and blood. His lip curls when his displayed pupils meet Josh’s terrified ones, crooked teeth almost looking like fangs in a way.

”I’d like to see you in my place sometime.”

What the fuck does that mean? Josh’s heart is pounding.  
It doesn’t take much to break away, since the brunette only had one hand to grab him with. His shirt with stained with the blood still running down Tyler’s forearms, in between his fingers.

He presses the panic button underneath the cabinets after stumbling back to them.

Tyler can’t stop smiling when the security marches in, almost like he _wanted, tried_ to get them in here-fixing him up all pretty until he’s laid flat, still struggling against their giant hands because he _wants_ those bruises against his pale, sensitive skin. He won’t stop digging his cuffs into his wrists-which are chained to the top of the table. He tries to bite some of the fingers holding him down, and nearly succeeds, too.  
It earns him a hard smack upside his already pounding head. The room _spins._

He’s spread-eagle, the only thing freed being his legs, which he uses as leverage to buck and scrape against the examination table. He looks more annoyed than anything.

”C’mon, I didn’t do _anything_ ,” He says in a whining fashion, one of which you’d hear from a young bully, or an ignorant criminal in court. “He started it.”

Josh is paler than he ever thought he could be.

”That-That’s good, thank you,” He says finally, swallowing the pride he’s not so sure he still has. The security grumble and snicker when they exit, and Josh runs a hand through his hair to try and compose himself.  
This was going to be an interesting experiment.

Josh is still uneasy when leaning over Tyler to clean and re-bandage his tiny little testing wound. It’s amazing how fast this boy loses blood.

”Poor baby,” Tyler taunts, still jerking his body back and forth, up and down to try and escape from his bonds. “I’m not that scary, am I? Damn.”

His cackle echos and Josh prepares the next test.

”I love this,” Tyler comments when Josh sticks the electrodes on each of his temples. “Never tried this one before, Doctor. Will it hurt?”

Josh fingers the knobs on the ECT machine resting beside him on a small rolling table. He really should record this-for science, anyway.  
But something feels too good to try.

”Yes,” He answers.

And-And, really, he REALLY should be using anesthesia or some muscle relaxers-probably both, but something tells him that Tyler...won’t react in the same way as normal patients suffering from depression or bipolar disorder.

”First test in three, two, one..”  
It’s something Josh is used to, mumbling under his breath because he has to record at least a little bit of this on the clipboard in his free hand.  
The other turns the dial up and flips the little switch on the ECT.

When he sends the first wave through, Tyler groans deep in his throat. His back arches, body twitching against the electronic shocks being sent through to his brain.  
He’s seizing on command, so to speak.

His mouth gets stuck open in a sort of silent plea, eyes turned towards the ceiling until they roll back like he’s being exorcised or something.  
When it starts to fade he’s panting, fists clenching and unclenching. His wrists are starting to bruise from how ferociously he’s been yanking his arms up.

”Do it again,” He says through grit teeth. It’s fading too fast.

It’s like Josh should be surprised or something. It’s almost like he knew somehow, someway that Tyler would make this enjoyable, like a game, like something that he has full control of because that’s _all he wants._

Josh sends another wave because he’s required to, not because it was requested.

Tyler cries out this time, gasping and grumbling like some sexually deprived deviant who’s just been touched for the first time in years. He tilts his head back, choking on the words he’s trying to get out. His legs curl up to try and protect him from whatever’s happening, but it’s all too internal.

All Josh can manage to scribble down onto the lab sheets is _inconclusive._

This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.

Tyler lets out a scream, deep and guttural and bone-chilling because it doesn’t sound like a scream of pain.

Josh turns the ECT up.

Tyler jerks his head to the side, locking lidded eyes with Josh and glaring into his soul.  
“Stop,” He mouths, shaking and it _almost_ looks like he’s overstimulated. Josh lets it run just a little longer before turning the dials to zero.

Tyler has tears running down his face, chest heaving. He’s quiet for a bit while Josh pretends to write something important down and not pay attention to the boy on his table.

”Kinky,” Is all Tyler says, his laughing choppy and mixed with gagging. That’s not a good sign.

Josh unhooks one of his cuffs and he’s immediately bent over the side of the table, body convulsing with dry heaves because apparently there’s not much in his stomach to come up-besides bile that stains the prison’s pretty white floors.

Tyler doesn’t come back up after he’s done. He spits on the floor and lays there panting until Josh walks himself over to the other side, tip-toeing over the vomit.

”Your test results came back,” He says. “You’re anemic. No wonder you bruise so easily. Everything else is fine, though.”

Tyler laughs like it’s the least important thing he’s heard all fucking day.

”I’m not going to conduct any more tests either, if you were wondering,” Josh continues, wheeling everything back into its place, disposing of Tyler’s test samples, and readying a syringe full of their highest grade sedative.

He’d say it was the same type they use on animals in zoos, but that would be an understatement.

”The blood tests were really all I needed. Figured it all out from there. Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t hemorrhage or seize up completely when faced with the ECT,” He continues, flicking the side of the needle. “For future reference. Hope it wasn’t too scary.”

”I wasn’t,” Tyler says into his one cuffed arm. “Wondering, I mean. About testing. You don’t scare me.”

”I’m glad,” Josh says, voice pitching up at the end because Tyler is in the perfect position with his neck so exposed that he plunges the needle straight in and empties it before the brunette has much time to jerk away.

He gags again, rolling onto his back with lidded eyes. Shit, he’s been caught off guard.  
“You’re a fucking doctor?” He slurs, and everything feels so soft, so numb and sweet. His mouth is _full_ of cotton, it has to be.

”’Fraid so,” Josh replies, clicking his tongue. “Sweet dreams.”

He watches those long eyelashes flutter shut and wonders if the strict, mean path was really the right way to go.

Either way, the only direction to go was up.

•

”Dr. Dun-what a nice ring that has-pleasure to be able to talk to you, son. Tell me about this weird passion project of yours again? You wanna take one of my prisoners into your _house?_ ”

This is Brendon Urie on the other end of the phone, the founder of this place: Hacksoft Prison. He’s currently a little skeptical of Josh and his plans. It’s fine, though.

”Um, yes, sir-I’d like to just take you step by step in my actions leading to the conclusion that I’d like to study Tyler and his behavior up close and personal,” Josh starts, and he’s already nervous. Tyler is still unconscious God knows where, but the real problem here is convincing this very powerful-very _rich_ man to give up his most dangerous prisoner.

”You’ve got how many years of schooling, Dun?”

Josh swallows. “8. Started when I was 18-sort of an over-achiever.”

There’s a laugh on the other end. “I see! Well, I’m glad I can trust you in that field. What makes Tyler so special, then?”

 _If you hadn’t interrupted me I would’ve told you._  
Josh tries not to sound annoyed or sarcastic.  
“Well, not to be insulting, but Tyler seems to be the only one in your entire prison that hasn’t gone absolutely insane.”

Another laugh. Heavier this time.  
“That’s not insulting at all! In fact, we pride ourselves on turning all these horrible criminal’s brains to mush. Tyler, as well. He’s about as gone as the rest of them, sad to say.”

”On the contrary,” Josh says, and this is where he starts smiling because _oh_ he is so excited to tell of his data he’s found so far. He free hand thrums out a beat on the steel table he leans against. They finally cleaned up the lab after Tyler was taken out.

”Tyler is the only _functioning_ prisoner you have, sir. He’s cognitive, he talks, he interacts, he KNOWS what’s going on and responds to it properly.” _Most of the time._

Brendon seems a little deflated at that. “We try to avoid making that known. We’ve tried everything on that kid, isn’t it a shame?”

”No!” Josh says, and hurries to explain himself. He’s just so excited. “It’s amazing! It could be a huge breakthrough in the psychology field. If I can figure out how Tyler’s brain works, how he functions daily, this experiment could be groundbreaking for both you and me.”

There’s a pause, and Josh can almost hear Brendon thinking.

”Groundbreaking for both of us?”

Josh chews on his lip. “I’d be sure to credit you with just about everything, sir.”  
He smiles wider during the next part.

”Imagine, being known for holding one of the world’s most dangerous criminals-AND having him be a model of a new path in psychology and mental disorders. You’d be known both in the public eye and the professional.”

There’s mumbling on the other end, as if Brendon is speaking to someone else.

”All right, kid. I’ll let you do this. I just have to ask, however: how can you be sure Tyler won’t murder you and everyone you love in your sleep? You know I’m not one for lawsuits. And this is already costing me a pretty penny because of your..” He clears his throat. “Requirements.”

Ten million dollars. Josh needs ten million dollars. Josh is about to _receive_ ten million dollars. It’s not like he really needs all that money, but it’s all about the _liabilities._

”And you _do_ have permission from the law to do this, correct? I’m just the warden here, you’ve got to go through the bigger guys to actually get Tyler out of here.”

”Yes,” Josh says. Kind of. He kind of has. “Everything should be fine.”

”He’ll hopefully be under surveillance,” He continues. “If you don’t mind lending me a few of your security guards I feel my wife would appreciate that as well,” Josh says finally.

Brendon sounds intrigued at that.  
“You’re married! What does the missus have to say about this whole ordeal?”

”I haven’t told her.”

An impressed snort comes through the line and makes Josh really think of how he was going to tell Debby about all of this.  
She’ll probably understand.

”Well, I’ll be damned. I suppose if you can pull this off without getting horribly maimed then hell, go for it. I’ve got nothing to lose besides one more dirty cell to clean-as morbid as it sounds. Like my dad always said, ‘a friend to all is a friend to none,’” Brendon says, then pauses. “‘Course, he’s rotting behind these bars, too.”

That’s...interesting. Josh clears his throat.  
“Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it. I’ll keep you updated if you wish-“

”Just send everything to my secretary-I’m a very busy man, you know this.”  
Brendon sounds distracted, like something else is drawing his attention away from the conversation at hand. Should Josh be worried?

He frowns. ”Uh, right, yes, I’ll be sure to do that. Could you give me their information-?”

”Yeah, yeah. Listen, I gotta go-lunch has arrived and I’ve got a meeting in fucking ten minutes, I’ll send the check-talk to you-“

The line gets cut off.

Josh lowers his phone, staring at the screen before questioning if he really wanted to do this. He hoped for some backup on Brendon’s end but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to get any.

If he wants anything done, he’s going to do it himself.

•

Josh’s house is a nice one. Expensive, big, something you’d expect a doctor to own.  
When he and Debby bought it three years ago they knew it would be their forever home, possibly to raise a family in-if she permitted. She was finicky about that. Josh has always wanted a daughter.

The house has now been baby-proofed, so to speak, as if Josh is really getting that dream of having kids instead of a serial killer roaming within the walls.  
Every sharp cooking utensil gone, all edgy corners and pointed pieces of art moved to storage, anything that could _possibly_ be used as a deadly weapon removed.

Debby isn’t so happy about it.

”I really wish you’d told me,” She says through a tight smile because they’re standing on the front steps, in full view of all the cameras and news casters eager to see this new experiment by such a young and upcoming doctor. She’s beautiful, he’s handsome; what a perfect time to showcase their riches.

”I’ll explain later,” Josh tells her through his teeth. The government car has just pulled up through their driveway.

”Dr. Dun, how is this going to affect your daily home life?”

”Are you nervous about your safety?”

”What made you want to go through with such a bold experiment?”

”Will the public know about the results of this plan you have?”

Josh is ignoring a lot of the reporter’s questions because he knows as soon as those black doors open all attention is going to be on Tyler.

It does feel a little intrusive, truthfully. Josh lives in a very wealthy part of town, where residents usually have passcodes gates surrounding their property.  
Letting in the whole world was a difficult decision.

”There he is!” Someone shouts. The back door opens and two beefy police officers exit first.

Tyler fucking loves this.

You’d think he was a celebrity-well, despite having his hands cuffed behind his back, the whole prisoner jumpsuit, and being flanked by two men who could snap him like a toothpick if he looked at them funny.

There is a permanent smirk on his face when he walks up these grand steps, eyes dark when he meets Josh’s gaze.  
He too, is ignoring the camera flashes and barrage of questions.

”Hello, Doctor,” He says cooly, now turning his attention onto Debby, head cocked.

”And..you.”

”The lab is downstairs. You know the codes, just make sure he’s detained,” Josh says quickly to the guards, cutting Tyler off before he could say anything else.  
“What did he mean by that?” Debby asks, her grip on Josh’s arm getting a little tighter.

Josh gives the press outside one tiny wave before leading them back into the house.

It’s a long time before he hears the commotion die down.

Tyler is waiting for them when they renter their home.  
“Just wanted a little tour,” He says innocently. The security seems to be glued to him, they’re so close. He looks squished.

”Such a beautiful home.”

Debby conjures enough courage to give him a tight smile before heading to the kitchen, heels clicking quickly on the hardwood floor. The air gets a little more tense, somehow.

Tyler doesn’t watch her go. He stares right at Josh.

”She doesn’t like me,” He says, then perks up at the sound of paws and a jingling collar.

Josh cringes a little bit when Jim bounds into the room, skidding to his side before lowering onto his haunches in front of Tyler. Not the best timing for another new introduction-he hadn’t even fully introduced Debby.  
Jim barks.

”This is Jim,” Josh tries to explain, but Jim isn’t taking very kindly to Tyler and has to be pulled back by his collar before Josh can explain any further.

Tyler blinks. “I hate dogs.”

”Doesn’t look like he likes you much, either,” Josh grunts, leading the dog out to the backyard before jogging back into the entry way.  
Tyler looks bored.

Josh jerks a thumb in the direction of the lab.  
“Shall we then?”

Tyler is relatively quiet. He just observes. Josh knows what he’s doing.  
He’s gathering information, eyeing every nook and cranny and crack in their defense so he can strike at just the right time.

There’s a little hope that he’ll be outwitted.

”Here is fine,” Josh says once they’ve finally reached the lab- _his_ lab, his very expensive, very gorgeous and very precise workspace that cost more than the house itself to build.

Tyler is guided onto another examination table, much like the one he sat upon before, except this time, he’s allowed to move his cuffed hands in front of him instead of above his head.  
He sits cross-legged and doesn’t move much after that.

”You two will be staying here, as well?” Josh starts, gesturing to the silent-but-deadly guards who have been following Tyler around so far-undoubtedly on Brendon’s payroll.

They both shake their heads. “Boss says it’s too much money to lose.”

Too much money. Of course Brendon doesn’t want to waste any more paychecks than he needs to.

One of them opens his mouth as if to say something in sympathy, but Josh, with his back turned already-a bit butthurt-interrupts.

“Right. I get it. You know the way out?”

They grunt their acknowledgement and are gone with Tyler’s eyes trained on them. How easy that was. He was getting tired of those two groping his ass.

”Come here,” Josh says, and gestures to a simple metal table catty-corner to the examination table. “Sit.”

Tyler obeys, still looking around the room without moving his head much. It gives him a mysterious aura, as if he weren’t weird enough.

He’s sat across from Josh, who is starting up a tape recorder on his end, free hand shuffling through papers littered with Tyler’s name.

”This is Dr. Joshua Dun conducting the first interview with prisoner #0013, Tyler Joseph, on the 3rd of October, 2019.”

Tyler scratches his bitten-off nails on the table.  
“An interview?” He asks. “Are we playing police again?”

Josh cocks his head. He really should have more than handcuffs keeping this psycho away from him.  
“No,” He answers. “We’re playing ‘I’m Letting You Stay In My House As A Guest While I Study Your Habits Because You’re A Psychopath.’”

He settled the papers in his hands. “You’ve already been interviewed by police, then convicted, then jailed.”

Tyler narrows his eyes at him and he smiles.

”Think of it as a vacation.”

Tyler snorts.

”I’d like to start with some simple things,” Josh continues. “What are your favorite hobbies, Tyler?”

He already knows the answer to this question.

”I don’t have any.”  
Tyler talks in shut-down mode. He talks like he did in every single police investigation interview, just like he did while testifying in court, just like he did when reporters were buzzing around him every day those 8 years ago.

Josh raises his eyebrows, one finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  
“Really? Says here you’re quite fond of writing.”

When he says that Tyler perks up.

”You wrote a lot back in the day,” Josh says smoothly. “Brendon said you used to write all over the walls of your cell, too.”

Pictures are slid over to Tyler and he studies them quickly, pupils moving _too_ quickly.  
Josh slides some excerpts over, as well.

”These...” Tyler looks like something is stirring inside of him, then suddenly it’s gone. He sits back, taking a breath. “These aren’t mine.”

Josh frowns as if he doesn’t know. “Aren’t they though? All these letters-they’re letters, aren’t they? And the people you’re writing _to_ , Tyler...”

When Tyler doesn’t finish his sentence he decides to start reading.

”’ _Sarah_ ,’” He starts. “‘ _I loved you. I say loved because you know how I really felt. Or did you? I wish you had seen what I was trying to say before we were tangled up in such a mess. You were always a beautiful soul. Someone I looked up to, at a time, even. There-_ ’”

”Sarah Urie,” Tyler blurts out. “Brunette. Wore a lot of ponytails. Big eyes. If I didn’t do it Brendon would’ve. She wanted something more from me but I wouldn’t give it to her.”

Josh lays the paper down. He’ll look for the image of the woman later. “Brendon?”

”His wife.” Tyler won’t make eye contact. “She wanted me to...do things. I wasn’t sure if I knew that’s what I wanted. Brendon knew something was up. If I didn’t do it he would’ve,” He repeats.

”Do what?” Josh asks.

”They were family friends but I didn’t like to call them that,” Tyler continues, ignoring the previous question. “She started getting too close, and he could tell. I didn’t want it to be him to find out somehow. He’s so quick to anger.”

He thinks for a minute. “And she was getting closer to finding out about other things.”

Josh pauses. “So what did you do?”  
It’s a really simple question, but he needs it spoken for the tape. He’s sure the police will appreciate this as Tyler never fully went into detail about his murders besides where he hid some of them.

There’s a long beat.

”I killed her,” Tyler says simply. “It’s not my fault her wedding ring was a little too loose, and I wasn’t about to make it my fault.”

Josh folds his hands. “And then?”

Tyler looks a bit deflated-annoyed, almost.  
“I fed her to my neighbor’s dogs.”

”And Brendon knows?”

He rolls his eyes. “Why do you think he wanted me in his daddy’s little facility so bad? As soon as his dad was out of the way he made sure my life was as bad as he could make it. Hell, the guy’s broke my jaw three times now. Just looking at me makes him sick.”

Josh chews on the end of a pen. “I don’t blame him.” He doesn’t feel bad about saying that even though Tyler looks bitter about it-of course, he always looked bitter.  
“You fed Sarah to dogs, yet you yourself ate every single one of your other victims. Why?”

Tyler picks at his nails. “Wasn’t hungry.”

It’s so odd, seeing Tyler talk so openly about this. Like they’re having a normal chit chat, not discussing affairs and murders and cannibalism.

”How do you kill your victims, Tyler?”

Tyler sits there, tight-lipped like he’d always been before Josh started reading the letters.  
“You’re awfully trusting,” He says.

”Letting me sit here with nothing but handcuffs on. I could run out, I could choke you to death with these cuffs, or even slit your throat if I was really feeling funny today. There are dozens of weapons in this room, the possibilities are endless.”

Josh doesn’t say a word. He’s emotionless.

”Letting a psychopath into your house. Trusting someone like me. Taking no precautions against what you know I’ve done and quite possibly could do again. Do you have a death wish, or are you just that stupid, Doctor?”

Josh adjusts his glasses. “Why haven’t you done it yet, then?”

Tyler closes his mouth.  
“Guess you’re something special.”  
He’s not going to do anything he just said. Why would he? Where would that get him? Back in prison? No, he needs to burrow deeper than this, this platonic acquaintanceship between a doctor and his patient. He’s not that stupid.

He just needs to go deeper.

•

Josh studies after dinner-which Tyler was oddly cordial during.  
He expected the same attitude brought to him during the interview-could he really call it that? It’s not like he was trying to arrest the guy-but instead he was just...quiet.

Not passive aggressively, not sadly, just a contented quiet.  
Although, he spoke to Debby more than he did Josh, thanking her for the meal, talking of how it “wasn’t what he was used to,” but that he hadn’t had a homemade meal in years.

Josh knows _“what he’s used to”_ , but decides not to think about it further.

He looks quite normal in actual clothing, surprisingly. Josh tries to think about how most murderers are unassuming when Tyler helps clear the table but doesn’t dare get within five inches of Debby.

He’s wearing some standard clothes the prison sent: a dark pair of jeans and a throwaway yellow hoodie that looks a little big on his bony shoulders, though he seems to have grown accustomed to it already. His feet pad so lightly on the floor it almost startles Josh when he shows up so unexpectedly.

But now, it’s _bedtime_.

He’s led Tyler upstairs, to his small bedroom he’ll be living in-unless Josh deems him unsafe, then he’ll be down in the lab’s makeshift cell.  
It’s very bare. For good reason, obviously; just a bed, dresser, mirror, and small bedside table decorate the space, and even the mirror was being risky.

Tyler hobbles for a moment before dashing to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. He looks pale.

Josh follows, suspicious, and finds the brunette bent over the toilet, heaving what sounds like his damn insides out.  
He coughs, spitting into the bowl before turning to Josh.  
“Rich food. Too much, I-“

He gags and Josh turns away because yes, he’s dealt with a lot of gore and disgusting things in his career, but if he has the choice not to watch someone vomit, he’s going to take it.

He must’ve overstuffed himself, only being used to the tiny rations-or possibly no rations-he received while in prison. That or he just really isn’t used to real food.

The toilet flushes and Tyler brushes past him on the way back to the bedroom.  
“Great dinner,” He says hoarsely over his shoulder.

Josh feels like a sitting duck. And follows behind like one, too.

”9:30? I thought doctors liked to stay up all night,” Tyler observes, eyes pointed at the alarm clock perched on the bedside table.

”Well,” Josh says, fingering the keys in his hands. “It’s _your_ curfew. Can’t have you roaming the halls alone, can we?”

The door is set with a multitude of locks, all of which Josh makes sure to check and double check before bidding Tyler goodnight, and praying to God he doesn’t do something stupid like kill himself or jump out the window.

It’d be quite hard to, anyway, as Josh had the only window in the room fitted with steel bars set tightly together, preventing anything from getting in or out.

Tyler is standing, head cocked as he listens to the locks clicking when Josh shuts the door.

He’s intrigued.

Josh is back downstairs, finally at a little bit of peace. Debby is finishing up the dishes and gives him a happy-sad-worried glance.  
“You’re sure about this?” She asks, and Josh cuts her off with a kiss.

”We’ll be fine, okay? Just think of the money. We can finally move out of here and get a fresh start,” He cajoles, hands pulling them together by the hips.  
“And you can get that fancy indoor spa you’ve been bugging me about.”

Debby laughs, resting her forehead against Josh’s chest.  
“I suppose you’ve got me there, mister. You gonna be late to bed tonight?”

Josh kisses the top of her head. “Mhm. Doing more research on our little house guest.”

Debby sighs through her nose. “Fun. Kiss me goodnight when you get there,” She mumbles, giving him a light peck on the lips before heading up the right flight of stairs. Josh watches her go.

The upper level of their house is split into two parts, a left and right side that both have separate, winding staircases.  
Tyler is on the left, Josh is on the right. They have such a grand entry hall in the middle.

Josh is now in his office, however, adjacent to the right flight of stairs.  
It’s nothing special, as he spends most of his time in the lab.

There are papers and files and folders scattered around his desk, all rifled through and highlighted-them not being the original documents, of course.  
It’s almost too much information to take in at once, but he’s slowly started piecing together what might be Tyler’s backstory.

There are photos, both new and old, police documents, interviews snippets-basically anything Josh could dig up from the prison records and the internet. The news articles are..interesting.

_Suspect found with multiple different bottles of prescription drugs, none of which were labeled as his-ambien, xanax..(see page 12 of records for full list and charges.)_

_Suspect refuses to speak, only denies his wrongdoing with physical symbols such as head-shaking and facial expressions._

_Suspect in hostile condition. Officer Greenwald taken in for medical analysis. Officer Black in critical condition. Any further questioning halted unless gone through the head of the department. Suspect is to be detained and kept on watch during all hours._

_KILLERS ALL AROUND US?_  
_The photo above shows 20-year old Tyler Joseph taken into custody for over forty-six murders spanning the past two years. Joseph was apprehended at his house this Saturday, after neighbors started noticing foul smells coming from his house and frequent missing-persons posters around their neighborhood. An anonymous tip called in to investigate, and what they found was brutal. Tune in to Channel 12 tonight as we cover more of this horrific story._

Josh’s eyes start to hurt underneath the lamplight. It’s dark all around him and honestly, he’s getting a little uneasy. The photo pasted above the news article shows a bloody and beaten Tyler in handcuffs, looking resentful. Police cars and SWAT trucks line the background around his house.

Photos prove nothing but the truth. Josh looks at autopsies of broken bones, just half-eaten skeletons that used to be real people. Piles of hair, matter and brain that used to be _an actual person._ Josh didn’t even know it was possible to make someone look so fucking unrecognizable, and he’s been in the medical industry for 10 years now.

Captions tell that the evidence was pulled out of garbage bins, dug from backyards, even sifted out of fireplace ashes.  
The families get justice, but receive nothing to bury.

That too-the court date. The trial. Tyler barely said a word the whole time, according to the transcripts.  
What a coward. Faced with his crimes and he can’t even accept it? Swallow his pride and admit it? He almost looks gleeful in the photo captioning his final sentencing-life in prison, with zero chance of parole.

The clock strikes midnight.

More pictures make Josh sick. He wishes the crime scene investigators weren’t so thorough.  
He sees bags, ziplock baggies, full of meat. Bodies parts. All labeled and dated with names, scribbled in sharpie. Frozen and ready for future consumption. All of the names match the missing persons Tyler has been sentenced to murdering..and consuming.

_DNA tests confirm evidence taken from suspect’s freezer is human. Further analysis to be conducted. Cannibalism charges are likely._

_No shit_ , Josh thinks, but remembers he’s reading all of this in the future, for these documents are from so long ago.  
It still feels so real-so recent.

_Suspect is suspected of substance abuse and inebriation by alcohol while committing crimes due to exhibits A-F, which include multiple bottles both empty and full of prescription pills not assigned to the suspect. Evidence also includes many bottles of assorted liquor items found in the suspect’s household. Extra charges will be filed after further investigation._

Drunk and high? No wonder Tyler doesn’t think he’s a freak. He was just an addict caught up in the wrong shit. Josh almost feels bad for him. Almost.

He flips to the back of the files, where Tyler’s background is.

 _MOTHER of suspect, Kelly Joseph, jailed multiple times on multiple accounts of public intoxication and disturbance of the peace, as well as child abuse. Suspect committed homicide at age 19. FATHER of suspect, not present during suspect’s lifetime. SIBLINGS of suspect (3), all killed along with mother in multiple homicide conducted by suspect._  
Child abuse?

Josh adjusts his glasses and pays closer attention. How could someone kill their own mother? And siblings?

Photos show older police records, filled with images of bruised arms and black eyes, all covering a small child no older than five, maybe. He looks hollow.  
Josh realizes it’s Tyler when he feels breathing on his neck.

”Tragic, isn’t it?”

And he almost falls out of his fucking chair.  
Tyler really has to stop sneaking up like that.

Tyler stands behind him in the dim light, hands stuck in his pockets.  
“Evening,” He says.

Josh picks himself back together and tries to catch his breath.  
“How the hell are you here right now?”

Tyler shrugs. “I picked the lock.”

”There were four.”

He sighs through his nose. “I picked the lock _s_.”

“How?”

Tyler ignores him and sits across from him at his desk.  
“You know, I was never high when I killed. I used those pills as a de-stresser, out of anything. They made the contact high of murder _so_ much better.”

Josh runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t say anything. Tyler continues while leaning over to skim the documents laid in front of them.

”And I didn’t fucking _drink_. All the booze tests they did on me came up negative. The alcohol in my house was for guests only.”

”So you’d wine and dine your guests before slaughtering them?”

Tyler shrugs again. “It made a good marinade, too. Mainly wine. Hard liquors. Fancy stuff like that.”

”Did you ever roofie them?”

Tyler hesitates.  
“If they were difficult.”

Josh scribbles something down. “And what about your family?”

Tyler laughs and it’s too loud in this state of quiet. The clock reads 1 AM.  
“Fuck that. You know why I killed them.”

”Because she abused you? Did your siblings abuse you, too?”

”My _siblings_ didn’t understand what she was doing to them and me, and I didn’t need any witnesses.”  
Tyler lays his head down and fiddles with the desk toys sprawled on top of documents.

”That was a long time ago. I was sloppy. I don’t regret much, but my sister was hard to see.”  
He pauses.

”And _no,_ I didn’t eat them. They were my first. I didn’t know what I was missing.”

Josh folds his hands. “Why did you come down here to tell me this?”

Tyler shrugs again. “I didn’t. I came down here to snoop, but you happened to be awake, unfortunately.”

”Right.”

There’s a pause, and the air is still. The only noise is the clock ticking in the back corner of the room. The mood is..odd. Josh doesn’t know how to feel. Tyler hasn’t made a single move onto him, but he’s not exactly showing himself to be completely safe.

”What do you think of when you see me, Doctor?”

And odd question. It makes Josh think of their discussion about _unassuming_ psychopaths.

Tyler answers for him. “I see a spoiled little kid who went to Catholic school. Someone who was cast out and bitterly resented.”

”Is that the assumption you’ve made for yourself?” Josh asks, and he’s just realized how fucking tired he is when they’re halfway through this interrogation-therapy session...thing.

”It’s the assumption everyone else has made,” Tyler says with a dry laugh. “I like it because it’s true.”

Josh rubs his eyes. It’s almost 2:00.  
“Tyler, can we finish talking tomorrow, maybe? I didn’t plan on staying up this late.”

Tyler stares at him. “Do you know why it took so long for them to catch me?”

Well, it’s not really a question worth being asked, but Josh will humor him.  
“Why,” He deadpans, stacking up the papers and files in front of him. He’s feeling sluggish. It’s too much emotional baggage for one night.

Tyler stands when Josh does, and lets him follow when they exit his office.  
It’s so dark Josh doesn’t know how the brunette managed to make his way through the house-that he should be unfamiliar in.

”I was never consistent.”  
Tyler starts for the right set of stairs and Josh stops him.

”That’s my wife’s side,” He says.

Tyler stands for a little too long, staring up into the darkness of their hallway.  
“Right.”

He continues when they go to the left side.  
“I never made a name for myself, anyway. Never used the same weapon, never tried to give myself...what do they say? A calling card?”

”Mm,” Josh says because honestly it’s all he can muster and he doesn’t even know if it’s right.

”You’re probably wondering why I’m spilling all these details. Aren’t you?”

He probably won’t remember in the morning anyway, Tyler.

The room is dim and warm and Josh is barely even registering half of this shit because he just wants to sleep.  
Maybe this is how he dies. So tired and worn out that Tyler could just push him over and he’d be down for the count.

It’s when he’s is standing in the doorway of Tyler’s bedroom does he get a nice awakening because for the first time he’s actually paying attention when Tyler grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks him into what could possibly be described as the messiest kiss he’s ever had.

It’s so sloppy, so mind-bending and _confusing_ that it makes Josh feel like he’s just been hit with a nice cold splash of ice water.  
Or reality, maybe. Take your pick.

Tyler doesn’t close his eyes when he kisses, either. They’re lidded, gleeful in their endeavors and when Josh pulls them apart he stumbles back, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

Tyler doesn’t the same but...slower, like he’s enjoying it a little bit more. And then, he acts like it never happened.

”G’night,” He chirps, and Josh makes sure to try and remember two extra deadbolts when he’s locking up Tyler’s room for the second time.  
He doesn’t say a word.

And forgets to kiss Debby goodnight because he feels as if he’s already..gotten that. All he can think about is how Tyler was throwing up after dinner.

Unfortunately.

•

For the first week Tyler feels more of an annoying boarder than a psychopathic-test subject-experiment..thing.

Josh has tried everything to figure out some sort of anomaly in Tyler’s brain, but nothing shows when he runs tests once, twice, three times over and over to desperately try for a decent outcome. He’ll have to try harder.

It’s back to interviewing. He’s frustrated. It’s been a long day and he needs something successful to put in his files.

”Can we talk a little bit more about your family?” He starts after giving the usual introduction. Tyler’s handcuffed _to_ the table today.

His bottom lip bleeds from how much he’s been chewing on it.  
“Not really in the mood,” He says nonchalantly. “Actually. I’d like to talk about yours.”

”No, actually,” Josh replies, mimicking the brunette’s tone. “I’m not the one being questioned. So tell me about your abusive mother.”

Tyler stares at him. Not dumbfounded, not angry, not challenging in any way.  
It’s standoffish. Like he’s planning something.

”My mother,” He says, fiddling with the chains holding him to the table. His fingertips are scarred with what look like old burns.  
“She was a fucking drunk.”

”No one gave a shit about our family because when I killed them, no one was even bothered to look for them,” He says, tone rising steadily. “You know why?”

He looks at Josh like he’s expecting a reply, and he looks angry enough to jump from his chair.  
“You _fucking_ know why, Doctor?”

Tyler takes a breath like he’s disappointed that he let himself get so worked up. He licks the tacky blood from his bottom lip.  
“Because everyone just thought that crazy old Kelly Joseph finally took all her kids to the backyard and shot them. It wouldn’t have been a surprise-in fact, it’s like they were counting down the days. She never took care of us. It was always me.”

He licks his lips again. “But it was me-that ended up killing them. In the end. Kind of ironic, huh?”

He looks everywhere but at Josh. “I only ever stayed home because getting beat was better than being touched by all the neighbors if I went out-not that there was much else to go besides our shitty little hood.”

Josh writes something down because nothing in Tyler’s records ever talked about child abuse in _that_ sense.

”So you lived in a primarily black neighborhood is what you’re trying to say?”

Tyler shrugs. “If that’s your fancy word for ghetto, then sure. I was different, and that was bad. End of story.”

He screws up his face.  
”It was shit. My life was shit. All I did was get picked on and beat up by my classmates because I was a scrawny white bitch and my own fucking mom because I was everything she didn’t want.” He talks and Josh listens and tries to feel sympathy somehow.

”But,” Tyler says, and this I when he looks up with that happy glint in his eyes. “I don’t feel bad about it one bit.”

Josh tilts his head. “The murders? Or your past?”

The air is so cold in this lab, Tyler’s fucking shivering. “Both. D’you have a cigarette?”

Josh stops the tape.

”Why did you decide to tell me this?”

Tyler sets his head down on the table, hands stuck above him.  
“Get me a fucking cigarette,” He snaps, then, after a beat, “Please. I haven’t had one in 8 years.”

Josh debates giving him a light. Would it help his fragile image in the mind of a sociopath? Yes. Would it dampen his fragile image as a young doctor taking extreme risks for science and fame? Yes.

He lights the cigarette in Tyler’s mouth and even uncuffs him to let him take proper drags.

Smoke pillows off of his lips when he talks.  
“That’s funny.”  
Josh can feel a foot nudge his under the table.

”Never seen a doctor so...forgiving.”

Is..Is Tyler trying to play _footsy?_ Josh can feel his foot creeping higher up his leg, onto his thigh.  
He stands quickly.

”What are you doing?” He asks, fave contorted into something like a mixture of disgust and confusion.

Tyler stands too.  
“Playing a game,” He replies. He fizzles his cigarette out on the metal table and walks a little closer. Josh reciprocates those steps by taking a few backwards.

”Oh, come on,” Tyler purrs, catching himself in a laugh. “You’re no fun, Doctor.”

Josh is getting closer and closer to being trapped against the wall and he’s not sure if Tyler has lust or murder in his eyes.  
And he’s not sure which one would be worse, statistically speaking.

Tyler nudges him against the wall and cocks his head, bloody bottom lip in a pout.  
“You don’t like me?” He asks, trailing a finger down the side of Josh’s face. “I thought we were friends.”

Josh stands his guard is isn’t afraid to push this little shit out of his way so that he can get away.  
“I don’t make friends with my patients,” He says steely, and is really glad Debby is at work right now because if she were to come downstairs and witness the scene happening right now, she’d be less than thrilled.

Tyler’s nose to nose with him now, standing on his tiptoes.  
“I think that’s bullshit,” He breathes.  
And Josh gets kissed again.

He’d like to say it was as bad as the first one-well, in fact _this_ isn’t even the second one as Tyler pinned Josh against the kitchen counter and nearly left hickies on his neck a few nights ago while cleaning up dinner-but sadly, it’s not. At all.

He _almost_ enjoys it.

”D’you wanna see how much I’ve changed behind bars?”  
Tyler’s fingers are so nimble Josh gets a chill down his spine.

”I’m a fucking _saint._ ”

Okay, okay.

Josh is hard. Sue him.

”Do you have a crush on me, Tyler?” He asks, craning his neck because Tyler’s hands are wandering and he’s not so sure how far he’s going to take this.

Tyler’s unbuttoning Josh’s jeans. “No,” He says, and drops to his knees.

God, what is he _doing?_  
Josh is married, to a WOMAN, who loves him very very much, and yet he’s about to get his dick sucked by the FBI’s Most Wanted.

Hell, it’ll be quite the story to tell once this is over, won’t it?

”This isn’t getting you any brownie points,” Josh huffs out, but Tyler’s mouth is too full to answer.  
In all honesty, if he were anyone else Josh would’ve turned them away because of how horribly unprofessional this is.

Tyler is just...handsome. He carries himself a little too well and knows how good he looks while doing practically nothing. Hell, he’d been in prison for 8 years and the second he took a shower he looked ready to rock the runway-or Josh’s bed.

”I’ve missed this,” Tyler muses, nose cradled in Josh’s hipbones. Drool shines on his chin and he sounds just a little more hoarse than he was when he started.  
He keeps looking up with dark eyes while his hand does nearly a better job than his mouth.

”Don’t suck much dick in prison?” Josh tries to laugh, but to be honest he’s blissed the fuck out right now. Debby never gives him head, and they actually haven’t even had that much bedroom time at all this month.

Tyler pinches at his thighs. “I did. Just didn’t do it for suckers with as much money as you.”

And he’s back to work without another word.

It’s not surprising that the little shit doesn’t have a gag reflex-or maybe Josh just isn’t that well endowed.  
It makes watching Tyler swallow his cock down with such ease a little less exciting.

Josh genuinely feels afraid when _teeth_ graze along his dick, like Tyler’s deliberately trying to scare him by teasing the idea of biting it off.  
He’d rather not think of that outcome.

Tyler rises after a few minutes more, thumb prodding against the head of his cock.  
“You have cameras?” He hisses into Josh’s neck.

Josh nods like a dumbass. Of course he does. He installed security camera just to make sure he wasn’t going to get murdered during the night.

Tyler smiles and nips at his ear. “Good. Want you to watch this later.”

And they’re kissing again. Something tells Josh he should be a little disturbed at the fact that these puffy lips he’s kissing were just bobbing off of his cock, but it’s not anything he’s going to ponder about right now.

”This-“ He chokes out in between Tyler’s tongue. “Means nothing.”

Tyler’s hand starts a quicker pace and he lowers himself back down to his original height, allowing that shadowed glare to rise in his eyes.  
“I’ll be the one who decides that,” He says, and Josh comes in his hand quite ungracefully.

”Fuck,” He mumbles, teeth grit and eyes shutting because _technically_ he just cheated on his wife. On Debby, the love of his life, the woman he’s been married to and had adored for over 6 years now.  
And now this becomes another secret he’ll take to the grave.

”Hope I get good marks on the next test,” Tyler says, and sticks a finger in his mouth. “Your dick tastes like cinnamon.”

”You do this for every guy you spend more than a week with?” Josh huffs, readjusting himself.

Tyler wipes his hand off on his jeans and sucks on his teeth, spitting out a pube.  
“Nah, just pretty doctors with my mental evaluation sheets.”

He leads Josh to the door and lets him unlock everything until they’re finally in the main floor of the house. Josh feels like a puppet and Tyler goes to the kitchen sink to wash his hands properly; as if on fucking cue the big French doors open and Debby steps in.

”Hi baby,” Josh says, instantly placing a smile on his face, spinning around so fucking fast you’d have never thought he was watching Tyler’s ass bent over the sink. “You’re home early.”

Debby runs her fingers through his hair like Tyler was doing minutes before and pulls him in for a hug.  
“I’ve missed you so much, baby. I got done early at the office so we could have some.. _alone time._? Is that something we could do? You’ve been so stressed lately and we haven’t gotten to in forever..”

He can feel her smile and gives her hips an accepting squeeze before they creep down lower.  
Tyler is standing in the open doorway of the kitchen and no one seems to notice.

Josh takes his beautiful, amazing, _hot_ wife’s face in his fingertips and kisses her for much longer than needed, most of the time while making eye contact with Tyler.  
Who just stares, smirking.

Debby giggles into the kiss and mumbles something about the bedroom, but Josh already has those plans worked out.

Tyler checks his watch. It’s 8:00. Almost curfew.  
What a shame if the one person responsible for keeping that curfew up was busy fucking his wife. Though Tyler wasn’t too sure Josh would even be able to go through a round two because he knows for a fact he sucked the fucking _life_ out of that boy.

The two are humping their way up the stairs when Tyler starts slowly after them, surprised that Debby didn’t seem to catch on to his prying eyes.  
Jim sleeps at the bottom of the stairs and it takes cautious steps to make sure he doesn’t wake the dumb bastard up.

The right side of the stairs is prettier than the left. Maybe it’s just the aura that Debby exudes because she spends the most time on this side.  
Tyler tries not to gag.

He can already hear their loud asses, too, and he’s barely halfway up the stairs-the _rickety_ stairs, might he add. Whoever built this house was a fucking moron.

They didn’t even bother to close the door, either. Impressive. It’s like Tyler was suddenly a figment of their imaginations.

Debby is sitting on Josh’s face, back towards the doorway, half naked. She’s so fucking loud Tyler could’ve sworn that she’s auditioning for a pornstar role.  
All he does is lean against that doorway again, quiet and unnoticed in the dark, the only lights being dimmed lamps in the bedroom.

He plans to stay for a bit and watch the show.

The place is nicely decorated, he’ll give them that. Lots of dark reds, tans, colors that looks as if they’d be disgusting together, but somehow work.  
Kind of like Tyler and Josh.

”God, baby, you’re so fucking _good_.”  
Tyler can tell Josh is trying really hard to make it a second round because Debby’s about to come on his face and he doesn’t even _look_ hard. Debby’s moans are too high pitched and sound fake as hell.

Oh well, at least she’s having fun.

Tyler really is quite proud of himself when Josh is tugging on his (probably still sensitive) dick, trying to give Debby something to ride on.  
Poor straight boy can’t figure out what he wants anymore.

The rest is about as uneventful as straight sex can be. Tyler wouldn’t write a five-star review about it by any means.  
Even him sucking dick-something Debby doesn’t even DO-was more entertaining than this. Her ginger hair bounces around her tanned-artificially tanned, probably-shoulders as she does, lean body arched back.  
Tyler would say she’s beautiful, but he’s even more so.

Josh finally gets it up, they fuck, Debby’s loud while Josh is focused, and he finally looks up right as they’re on the edge.  
His eyes lock onto Tyler’s when he comes. It’s a look of horror, confusion and just a tiny bit of lust.

And Tyler’s job is done. He smiles, gives Josh that pageant smile he used for his mugshots, and pads his way back downstairs because golly, it’s way past his bedtime.

Jim doesn’t even notice him when he steps over his furry body.  
Everything is navigated easier in the dark for him.

And he just can’t wait for tomorrow.

•

It’s Friday, October 11th, and Tyler Joseph is in big trouble.

Josh sits him down a little more casually-at the breakfast table, long after Debby has gone off to work. She’s employed at a law firm, isn’t that darling?

Their breakfast nook is nestled into the right side of the kitchen, filled with that warm morning light lazily drifting through cream-colored curtains.  
Debby designed the whole house.

Tyler drinks orange juice and picks at the waffles set in front of him.  
“So,” He says.

Josh runs a hand over his face. “We need to talk about some things, Tyler. Set some boundaries.”

Tyler chews on the straw stuck in his juice.  
“Like when I was sucking your dick yesterday?”

”Yeah. We’ll talk about that too,” Josh sighs.

”Fun.”

He folds his hands, and if they weren’t so tightly squeezed together they’d be shaking. He could hardly sleep last night, everything’s just catching up with him too fast.

”What we did yesterday was a mistake. Can you understand why?”

Tyler snorts. “Yeah, you fucking suck at eating pussy. I’m surprised she even came at all-I’d call that whole thing a mistake.”

Josh takes a deep breath. “Not. That. I’m talking about what you and I did yesterday. In the lab.”

Tyler rests his head in his hand. “I think you’re just saying this to me so you don’t feel bad. If I repent and say I’ll never do it again will you fuck me over the table?”

And then he laughs because Josh is horrified. What did he expect? This isn’t some random fling he found, this is someone who is an expert at manipulating emotions and taking advantage of whoever he pleases.  
He’s gone too deep and is practically trapped.

”I’m just kidding,” Tyler says, and runs his fingernails along the grain of the table. “Unless you want to.”

Josh ignores that. “Watching my wife and I last night was extremely inappropriate.“ He should be more angry about this.

”I don’t get off on that,” Tyler says, cutting off Josh’s next thought. “If that’s what you assume I was doing. Shit’s nasty. I just wanted to make you feel bad.”

Josh purses his lips. “Yeah, I get that. But if I catch you again I’m making sure the only parts of this house you see is the lab, handcuffed in a cell. Understand?”

Tyler sucks on his straw. This orange juice is expired.  
“Kinky.”

It’s a nice morning.

•

”Let’s talk about some of your other victims,” Josh starts. It’s a fresh day, he’s had some time to cool off, and Tyler is still a bitch.

”’Let’s talk about some of your other victims,’” He mimics in a higher pitched tone.

He sits uncomfortably, chained by both his ankles and wrists to the same fucking metal table they’ve been doing these interviews at for almost two weeks now only because he was found early in the morning with a knife that somehow slipped everyone’s grasp during the ‘safety proofing’ of the house. He has permanent bruising along his wrists because of how much he yanks on them when handcuffed. It’s like his signature.

He wasn’t going to use it-the knife. It’s just..he misses stuff like that. Stuff he never got to see in prison.

”I know you’re angry, but I need you to cooperate with me,” Josh says calmly, mainly for the tape so that the cops don’t think he’s starting to crack.

”I didn’t give a shit about half of my victims,” Tyler drawls. “Most of them were stupid guys I met in bars who were dumb enough to follow me home and become dinner.”

”But how did that start?” Josh interjects. “The whole...cannibalism thing.”

Tyler tongues at a cold sore beginning on the right side of his lip. “I dunno. Mix-up in the freezer I guess? Switched out a pound of beef for a pound of beefy guy I met at the grocery store on accident.”

He shrugs. “Always was interested in it. You really do taste like pork, though. The internet is right. Women are also much leaner, but I’m sure you’re not surprised by that.”

Josh sits back.  
“Who are some of your most memorable kills?”  
It’s so routine, this whole back and forth question and answer thing they have Josh has to actually think of things to ask before bed sometimes just so that he doesn’t run out of shit to say the next day.

Tyler laughs at him when he says that.  
He stretches-well, tries to stretch-and chews on his lip.

”Samantha Michaels, my neighbor across the street. Blonde. Glasses. Sort of ‘I’m pretty but secretly smart’ type, y’know? She knew more than she should, was CONVINCED I was the one responsible for the missing persons posters.”

He scoots his chair closer. “She was right. Even had a whole cork board with the red yarn and photos of me, just like the cop show shit.”  
He rolls his eyes. “Killed her with her own revolver. Staged it as a suicide, and no one really questioned it. She drove herself crazy watching me through her blinds every day.”

”You didn’t eat her?” Josh asks, flipping to this girl’s file. It only shows her body during the autopsy. Her entire upper part of her face is gone.

Tyler scrunches up his nose. “That bitch was crazy. She would’ve tasted shittier than me. Always so tense and anxious about everything. She was practically skin and bones, too. I think she was anorexic.”

Josh flips through some more files. “How about Miles Malone?”

Tyler clicks his tongue. “Big guy,” He stops to shake his head, grinning a bit. “Took me to fucking _poundtown_ before I slit his throat. I was almost sad to see him go, but he had some great filets on him.”

”Aaron Maxwell?”

He recites these facts like they’re trivia to him.  
“Blonde. Kinda nerdy. Super cute at first but really fucking annoying after a few glasses of wine. I actually killed him with the bottle he was drinking from.” He stops to laugh. “Silly bitch.”

”So you identify as gay, Tyler? You like to, shall I say, seduce your victims before you commit your murders?”

He curls his lip. “I suppose. Why? Do the police need to hear about everyone I’ve fucked?”  
He pauses but speaks before Josh does.

”I will say right now, however, I’ve eaten a lot more pussy than you and are _much_ better at it-“

Josh flips the tape off so fast he fumbles with it and it almost falls off the table. He’s beet red.  
“God,” He says through his teeth. “Always something to fucking say. Can’t you just keep quiet about that? What the hell do I have to do to make you _behave?_ ”

Tyler sits pretty. “It’s my job isn’t it? To answer all your dumb questions about shit I did way too long ago?”  
He then thinks for a minute about that last part.

”Uncuff me, if you want me to behave.”

”Fat chance,” Josh snorts.

Tyler fixes himself and sits up a little straighter.  
“Fuck me then.”

That makes Josh freeze. He scrunches up his face, like there’s suddenly a bad taste in his mouth.  
“What is your issue? Why are you so obsessed with the idea of..doing stuff with me?”

Tyler shrugs. He likes to play dumb.  
“I dunno. You’re kinda hot, I’m kinda hotter, we’re meant to be horribly be together.”  
_I like to sleep around before I make my next kill. You said it, not me._

”And you’re aware that I’m married?”

He laughs, _genuinely_ laughs at that.  
“Like that’s ever stopped you? You know she’s not exactly the most loyal wife, either?”

He’s trying to tell lies. Starting shit isn’t something Josh needs right now.  
“I am married to a woman, and I’m not going to sleep with you. I’m not even interested in men. I need you to understand that, Tyler, before you make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Tyler sits with a glare pasted onto his face. He’s trying not to smile.  
“Whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”

Josh piles his papers up and leans into Tyler before leaving.  
“Don’t call me that.”

It’s so much to handle. The more comfortable Tyler becomes, the more power he wants. He’s been too promiscuous, giving _fuck me_ eyes and little touches and those stupid sudden kisses that leave breathless and flustered and ashamed.

He’s not turning this into something bigger than it needs to be. He’s going to nip this in the bud.

Where it belongs.

•

Debby is becoming so distant Josh sometimes forgets she’s even married to him.  
She takes overtime shifts, mainly because Josh’s work is making him take off his usual shifts at the hospital’s psychiatric ward. They need the money, and Brendon will only pay him if he provides real results-which are becoming harder and harder to come by. She comes home and constantly finds him up later than she, poring over every document he can to try and understand how Tyler’s brain works the way it does. He suspects PTSD. Or something like that. Something in his past that fucked with his nerves.

Though, the one good thing that has come out of this is that Josh has built up quite a tolerance. To Tyler.  
He can watch the brunette seize and cry and vomit during his ECT tests, he doesn’t flinch when he gets spit on and kicked at or flirted with. He doesn’t mind when his roughened hands are the ones causing all of Tyler’s newest bruises.

And he certainly isn’t about to cave in to Tyler’s stupid lustful needs.

He’s found Tyler masturbating just about everywhere in their house (he’s hired a part time maid for when Tyler is down in the lab just for his own peace of mind) and is becoming increasingly nervous that Debby is going to find something out and become suspicious.

The maid is a ditzy blonde named Jenna. She’s nice enough, but Josh fires her after a week of work because he finds her fucking Tyler on the kitchen floor one afternoon. He doesn’t even know how the little shit got upstairs.  
It was not a pleasant sight, seeing his maid naked and his patient half naked, contorted like pornstars on his good linoleum flooring.

Needless to say, Josh is getting fucking tired.

He takes up drinking, which isn’t necessarily something he’s never done, but _stress_ drinking is a whole higher level on its own.  
Where the hell is Debby? It’s almost ten o’clock. Josh knows she doesn’t work that late. The lights in their house dim on their own and it gives a twilight zone vibe to the area.

Debby. That bitch. Tyler was probably right about her cheating, even though she never seems to have time for anyone lately, especially not Josh. She almost seems unnerved by his presence.

Josh is tipsy, lips sweet with whiskey and he’s leaning on the kitchen counter, eyes closed because _how is he going to do this?_  
What on earth has he gotten himself into?

Tyler has been in his home for two and a half weeks and he’s already shown so much dominance, like Josh can’t even lock him up and leave him because he’s not the alpha anymore.

In fact, Josh is on high alert because Tyler is in the other room-the living room-watching television and he’s afraid he’ll walk in and get lynched.  
His mental health is declining. Steadily. He needs to figure out how to stand up to this shit. He can’t just _give Tyler back_ , that would undermine his whole project, his plan to become psychology’s newest upstart with his brilliant ideas.

Tyler pads into the kitchen and sits atop the counter. Josh looks up from the island in the middle and blinks.  
“Hey.”

”You smell gross,” Tyler observes. “Are you not taking care of yourself?”

Josh chuckles and runs a hand through his greasy brown curls. “No, actually. I haven’t been.”

The mood is a little less than tense. It’s more like...two sort-of friends talking alone together.

”Because of me?” Tyler questions, hands folded in his lap. He looks perky and clean; unfazed by the accounts that have happened since he’s arrived. In fact, he’s entertained by almost everything. Prison was so boring.

”Mm. A little.”

He slides off the countertop, instead leaning on the island like Josh, chin resting in his hands.  
“It’s what you expect of me,” He says, like it’s something they just have to deal with, something everyone grits their teeth and bears. “I’ve got that fucked up head, remember?”

Josh swallows. He’s drank a lot tonight, and isn’t planning on stopping. Tyler looks fucking gorgeous, all long eyelashes and wispy hair; his skin is so delicate-looking, even if it’s dotted with bruises.  
Josh can only imagine how shitty he looks. He hasn’t showered in...well, he can’t remember. Everything merges together in a clump of Tyler’s records, his relationship worries, and the fear of failure.

He can feel a pair of chocolate brown eyes boring a hole into his bowed head. He’s so tired.

Feet patter over to his side of the counter, and Tyler is sitting next to him now, legs swinging off of the barstool.  
“I can help,” He offers, not as a question, as if he knows everything that’s constantly racing through Josh’s mind.

Josh turns to look at him and in that dimmed artificial light, it almost looks like he’s caught an angel.  
A horrible, manipulative, murderous, _cannibalistic_ (come on Josh, take the fucking hint!) angel with plump lips and nimble fingers.

He’s so smitten.

And when Tyler kisses him, it’s not like the ones they’ve shared before.

It’s so soft, so gentle and precautious that Josh almost has to open his eyes to make sure he’s kissing the same person.  
A pair of elegant hands intricately creep onto his thighs. It’s warm. It’s heating up. Tyler’s moving closer and-

”Tyler,” Josh gasps, pulling them away with a sharp breath. Even drunk he won’t just let go. “I can’t. I can’t, I’ve told you-“

Tyler doesn’t pull back all the way, lips still parted.  
“Let me do this,” He hisses, and grabs Josh’s hand.

_Let him do this._

Josh stumbles up his own stairs, nearly falling on his ass a few times while staring at Tyler’s.  
What is he doing. He’s letting it happen. He’s not even attempting to stop it again; what a weak ass first attempt anyway.

Tyler leads them to the bed, the plush, velvety red comforter in which he spreads his legs on and lets Josh perch in between. Hands, eyes, mouths are everywhere. Josh can’t get enough.

Then Tyler pushes him back.  
“You,” He hums, brushing a curl behind Josh’s ear. “Do not get to touch me.”

What?

”What?” Josh says, echoing his thoughts. That’s dumb. How does someone have sex without touching the other person?

Tyler kisses him a little rougher than last time and pushes him back.  
“Just watch,” He chirps.

Just watch. Sure, that sounds great, says Josh’s dick.

Tyler strips down to only a t-shirt, which still leaves too much for the imagination as it’s baggy and covers all of the... _important_ things.  
Josh pulls up one of the stools they have next to their bedside tables and takes out his dick because he’s impatient and drunk and his legs hurt.

”You’re all shaved,” He says, eyebrows furrowed. “How did you even..?”

Tyler laughs at him and sticks two fingers in his mouth, pulling them out with a string of spit connecting them to his lips.  
“I stole one from your bathroom.”  
He lifts the t-shirt up, revealing even more perfectly hairless (did he know something was going to happen tonight?), tanned skin.

Josh has his full attention on this creature sitting in front of him, fingering himself like some peep show stripper while he tries not to come too early because he hasn’t even stuck his dick in anything yet. They’ll talk about the thievery later.

”You ever watch Debby?” Tyler asks, hips moving against his fingers. He adds a third after Josh shakes his head, eyes completely focused on how fucking _hot_ this is.

Tyler tips his head back, spit shining on his thighs because of his own wandering hands.  
“I can tell.”

He makes better noises than Debby, they both silently agree. They’re light and sudden, like some virgin getting touched for the first time, even though they both fully know this isn’t the first.

Tyler pouts his lips out and starts a faster pace because he’s found the good spot and Josh just wants to replace his hand with his so fucking bad.  
HE wants to be the one forcing those whimpers from Tyler’s throat.

”I do this in bed sometimes,” He hums, his free hand smoothing over every inch of skin _but_ his cock. “-Think of you. Want you to fuck me against the lab wall sometime. Make it ironic, y’know? Then watch it back on the cameras. Extra nasty.”

He giggles breathlessly. Josh doesn’t know what to say besides _adjskfkxks_ because his brain has turned into horny mush at this point.

But alas, it doesn’t last forever.

Tyler slows himself down, chest rising and falling a little too rapidly, and beckons Josh over with a wet finger, who nearly trips he moves-he _obeys_ -so fast.

”What do you want to do?” Tyler purrs, as if asking about a new activity and not about, well, sex. “You want to fuck me? You wanna hold me down and treat me like some cheap whore you’ve bought for the night?”

He hisses the newer words, taunting Josh’s lustful attitude.

”God,” Josh chokes out. “Yeah-I-I wanna fuck you, I wanna make you feel so good,” He admits bluntly, and even adds a meager _please_ as an afterthought. He’s drunk on booze and high on Tyler, who smells so fucking _good_ now that they’re this close again.  
Like pine and vanilla.

Tyler watches Josh strip to a little more comfortable state. “I’ve heard that a thousand times before.”

He perches himself on Josh’s lap, eyes dark when they bore straight up into his. All he can sense is shame, and dread, and, worst of all, fear. He’s glad these events have moved along as quick as they have.  
“You’re fucking disgusting.”  
He begins nipping at Josh’s neck, hips rolling on their own accord. Josh finally spills when Tyler starts _biting._

”All hot and bothered for me,” He says, grinning, eyes drinking in the flushed skin set before him, every freckle and bump and colored line set into Josh’s pale body.

”This,” Tyler mumbles, tracing along Josh’s fully exposed tattoos. There are so many colors, so many different shapes; rivers and oak trees and Ohio and spacemen. Tyler’s are the complete opposite. “Why?”

”I thought they were pretty,” Josh explains breathily. “Debby and I have matching ones, too. They say _dude_.”

Tyler snickers. “Dumb.”

And he’s back to torturing Josh-who doesn’t dare ask what Tyler’s tattoos mean-with his plumped lips and chapped fingertips.

”Are you scared?” Is murmured into Josh’s skin between every harsh, blood boiling wound Tyler laps over gently like a readied tiger, waiting to lure their prey into a kill.

”You terrify me,” Josh admits, and _God_ he wants to run his hands up these perfectly fitting thighs stuck around his. It’s intoxicating. “Every day. I want to show you your place, but you’re too much.”

”You never could control me,” Tyler says matter-of-factly. “I could’ve killed you a long time ago.”  
He leans back to stare into Josh’s waiting eyes.

”But I didn’t.”

”But you didn’t,” Josh repeats.

Tyler studies him. “Instead, I’ll digest you,” He murmurs. “One fucking kiss at a time.”

Charming.

He spits on the hickies he makes and knows how much regret they will bring in the morning. His thumbs jab into sensitive skin and make Josh hiss.  
He relishes it. He relishes being the dark, horrid memory Josh will never forget.  
“You’re a strong man on the outside,” He murmurs, fingertips trailing down Josh’s naked chest until they’re hooked in his boxers.

”But you’re _vulnerable._ ”

He lays them down, arms thrown around Josh’s neck, which has now started to blossom in hues of purple and red colored teeth marks.  
“Show me you’re not afraid,” Tyler challenges, teeth bared. He runs a hand underneath his t-shirt and almost _glares_ in the red-dimmed light.

”Show me a reason I shouldn’t be,” Josh retorts, nose brushing under Tyler’s jaw. This is the worst kind of foreplay-the kind that makes him wait. The kind that forcibly tells him that _Tyler_ is in charge and there is nothing he can do about it.

Tyler furrows his eyebrows, fingernails digging into the back of Josh’s neck.  
“Touch me,” He says, directly going against his previous orders.

Josh can’t fucking wait to get his hands on him. He starts slow, just to tease, bunching up Tyler’s shirt until he’s fully exposed and smirking, the only blush being one spread across his chest and down to his happy trail.

”I can’t ever stop looking at you,” Josh admits, almost bashfully because of how wrong this is.  
“Always flirting with me, always playing the dumb slut. Makes me wanna bend you over the kitchen table and fuck you ‘til dinner time.”

Tyler spreads his thighs further, hips arching up into Josh’s touch when he finally gets a hand around his dick.  
“You’re filthy,” He says, breathless. “Fucking me, in your own bed that your wife sleeps in. _Dirty talking_ me. You don’t even do that with her, do you?”  
He pauses, running a hand through his own hair.  
“What would she say? If she saw this right now? Would she join in?”

He places his hand over Josh’s, leaning close so that their noses touch.  
“What would you think, just sitting there while I fuck your wife? Does it make you mad?”

Josh pretends to bite at Tyler’s lips. He’d take this boy any way, any day.  
“You’d fuck anything that walks.”

Tyler seems pleased with that answer and falls back again, eyes fluttering in and out of closed while Josh works more magic.  
“Can’t say you’re wrong.”

Josh leaves marks of his own along Tyler’s thighs-both the outspoken outside and tender inside-which makes the poor thing curl up around his frame, holding back squeals of pleasure. Despite his original display of power, he’s starting to break.

”I’m ready,” Tyler chants, hands running up and down his thighs over and over to show how anxious he is-excited anxious, that is.

Josh leans for the lube he knows is in the bedside table and Tyler clicks his tongue at him.  
“Just put it in,” He groans. “I like the burn.”

Josh tells him to shut up, but still only uses enough lube so that he wasn’t going in completely dry. He has a little decency.

”No condom?” Tyler asks, sitting up on his elbows. “You trust me too much.”  
He looks absolutely heavenly, golden tan skin practically glowing in the light, body splayed out like some ancient Greek goddess statue atop their neat pile of deep red blankets. He smiles.

Josh pulls him onto his lap again. “Well, I did run all of your tests and surprisingly, you’re clean.”

Tyler runs his fingers through Josh’s curls and sinks down slowly before mumbling out, “Guess you’re right, Doctor.” His lips stay parted, eyes squeezing shut momentarily before he looks up again.

It’s something close to bliss, like heaven’s second cousin. Josh still can’t believe it’s happening.

”I haven’t-haven’t done this in a while,” Tyler confesses. “It’s just- _fuck_.”

He lets his mouth hang open, lips puffy and red. “Don’t let this go to your head, either,” He spits. “You’re _average_ , at best.”

Josh is too speechless to say much of anything. He’s guiding Tyler’s riding form, fingers squeezing into his thighs every now and then.

Tyler finally finds his pace, hands perched on Josh’s shoulders to keep him steady. Strings of _ha_ ‘s escape his lips when Josh thumbs his way around the inside of his aching thighs.  
He scrunches his face up, scowling. “Don’t start thinking this is how it will always be.”

He arches his back and Josh is amazed that there’s the possibly of a _next time_ at all.

Maybe he shouldn’t let a next time happen.  
Or maybe he should, because this is honestly the best sex he’s had since his and Debby’s wedding night.  
Hell, maybe even better than that.

Tyler’s still complaining when Josh comes to from his horny pondering. He won’t touch himself and smacks Josh’s hand away every time he tries.  
Must be another weird kink thing.

”I don’t like foreplay. I like it fast and hard and-“ Tyler cuts himself off with a giggle at how stupidly pornographic it all sounds, even though he’s speaking as if scolding Josh.

”Make me cry next time,” Is what he finishes with.

Josh frowns, lips perched on Tyler’s cheekbones. He’s embarrassed to say it, but he can’t get enough of Tyler’s smell. It’s horribly addictive, just like the brunette himself.  
“Why would I want to make you cry?” He asks casually. Tyler shifts his position and rests his hands on Josh’s thighs.

That’s-That’s a lot better.

”Because-shit-because I want it to h- _hurt_ ,” He replies, practically talking through his teeth. He’s so focused. He’s so _close_ , actually, but he’s too ashamed to say it. He doesn’t want Josh thinking he’s some sort of lightweight.

Josh groans at the new position.  
“Noted. You talk a lot.”

Tyler is nearly bent backwards on Josh’s dick, stomach-and his own cock-bared to the open air as he bucks shakily back and forth.  
“And you don’t do enough work. Looks like we balance each other out.”

It’s almost becoming too much. He feels weak, but is _not_ about to let Josh take control. He’s still the newly appointed- _self appointed_ -alpha of this house, and this weird relationship that’s starting to grow.

But shit, he’s about to come.

Tyler’s thighs tremble, and Josh can tell he’s close because he’s stopped talking and only makes little held back whining noises every time their hips meet.  
“I-“ He suddenly jerks forward, mouth agape and a hand on his cock because he’s coming on Josh’s stomach with zero warning and hates himself for doing it.

Sensitive. He’s just sensitive.

Josh pats tufts of sweaty chestnut hair.  
“Think you can still go?”

Tyler flips him off while panting.  
“Fuck off. I can-I can..I mean I’m not new...to this.”

Jesus, it’s the best orgasm he’s had in decades, he can’t deny. Josh sees right through him, however, when he starts up again at a slower than slow pace, body feeling numb and limp and _tired_.

”Right,” Josh says, and flips them opposite ways. Tyler stares up at him, truly looking displeased, but also too blissed out to give a shit.

It’s much easier to just lay there and take it. He lackadaisically holds his thighs up, presenting himself the best he can for Josh while trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

”You’re cleaning this up afterwards,” Josh grumbles, glancing down at the mess still drying on his stomach. “Nasty little bitch.”

”Uh huh,” Tyler says, obviously not in tune to what’s actually happening. He’s getting fucked and that’s all that is processing through his head right now besides the doofy smile on his lips.

”Gonna be all black and blue tomorrow,” He murmurs when Josh grabs a tighter hold of his hips. He must be getting close. Tyler can sense the frantic tension he’s dying to release.

”Mm,” Josh says in reply. He’s focusing now, no more playful horny banter. Everything is closing around him in wave after wave of pure, unadulterated lust and it feels fucking _amazing_.  
“ _Shit_ ,” Is how he chooses to vocalize it. Along with some _holyshitI’mcominginsideI’msorryfornottellingyou_ grunts.

Tyler blinks, eyes slowly narrowing.  
“Gross.”

Josh pants. “Sorry.” He gives a lackluster smile to really seal the deal because seeing Tyler sprawled out with his come leaking out of him was something art-worthy. Something he was _definitely_ not sorry about.

The brunette stretches, giving off an impression of a feline when he runs a hand down his stomach.  
“I’d tell _you_ to clean up this mess, but I’ve seen your mouth skills.” He giggles and Josh rolls his eyes.  
“Shut up.”

He heads for the shower and Tyler rolls over, head cocked.  
“That’s it?”

Josh stops, towel already wrapped around his waist. “What?”

Tyler pouts, kicking his legs behind him like some teenage girl.  
“I don’t know, I thought that it’d be a little more...intense.” He pauses, then smirks. “You just fucked a serial killer, do you still feel normal?”

”I’m sure it’ll catch up with me tomorrow,” Josh says over his shoulder.

”I’m still drunk as fuck.”

•

Tomorrow. Is the worst day of Josh’s life.

He wakes up to not only someone who is not his wife, but someone he has sworn never to be intimate with and someone who scares the shit out of him on the daily.

Also, he’s hungover.

Also, Tyler is _cuddling_ him. Touching him. Half naked. In his own bed.

”Hey princess,” He murmurs, grinning at Josh’s horrified response. “Want me to fill you in?”  
He sort of shrugs when Josh rolls over, looking _quite_ embarrassed.

”I mean, technically it was you that filled _me_ in, if you get what I’m sayin-“

”Tyler,” Josh interrupts, sighing. “We...we had sex last night, didn’t we?”

Tyler nods, sitting up. “Hardcore. Crazy stuff. Talked about a lot of things.”

He picks at his nails. “Then you came in my ass.”

He can’t help but fucking laugh at how mortified Josh looks. It fuels the fire, what he’s been searching for this whole time, ever since he first stepped into this magnificently morbid household.

_Full control._

Josh rubs his eyes while checking his phone, which has blown up with notifications. There’s only one person he’s looking for, though.

_Debby: hey babe, im staying at adrianna’s this weekend-girls week ;) u know how it is. love you._

What? Debby never has “girl time.” She always said it was a waste, and that she never really HAD time for it.

He shrugs and types out a lackadaisical _have fun. don’t party too hard. love you._ before turning back to Tyler.  
“Can you just..go away for a little bit?”

Tyler sits on the bed cross-legged. He shakes his head. “Don’t you want to know about our night?”

_Our night._

”Is there something I’m missing?”

He nods. “Lots.”

Josh sighs. “Fine. Lets at least talk about this downstairs. It still smells like sex up here.”

Tyler grins. “Breakfast? Sounds amazing.”  
And he’s up, wearing one of Josh’s discarded t-shirts like a prize, prancing downstairs.

”Take that off!” Josh shouts.

”At least let me wake up before we go another round!” Tyler yells back.

Oh, the fun they have.

And the regret Josh is feeling.  
At least no one knows. Debby will NEVER know. She’ll come home and Josh will kiss her and hug her and tell her how much he missed her because he really, really does. He misses her so much.  
She keeps him steady, and definitely never would’ve let him get as drunk as he did last night.

”So,” Tyler says when Josh finally makes his way to the kitchen. “You really don’t remember?”

“‘Fraid not,” Josh says, trying to focus on the coffee machine because every time he sees Tyler’s bruises and hickies a rush of shame washes over him.  
“Just that we fucked.”

”Yeah,” Tyler shrugs. “That’s the simple version. After we were done you showered, and then got horny again, so I sucked your dick, and then you fell asleep like a big baby, then I showered, and watched you sleep all night.”

He pretends to be shocked. “Oh-I mean-I went to sleep too.” Then pulls a cigarette from a pack that was definitely Josh’s at one point.

”There was even a round two?” Josh asks, lip curling in disgust. _God, Josh, pull it together._

”What can I say? I’m magical in bed.”  
Smoke curls into the kitchen ceiling.

Magical. God, this is awful. He knows for a fact Tyler will use this as blackmail. He just hopes it’s not soon.

”Right. Can we,” He pauses. How does he make this a little less offensive?  
Hell, why does he CARE if it’s offensive? It’s not like Tyler is some sweet innocent one night stand he has to let down easy, he’s someone who should be feared and hated and treated thusly.

”Pretend this never happened. It was a big mistake. If I’m being honest, you were someone to fall back on because you were the only one here. Otherwise? I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on earth.”

Tyler stares at him with that dead-eyed, smug look he always wears.  
“Ooh. Ouch.”

Then gives him a nice pat on the shoulder before heading down to the basement.  
“I’ll be downstairs, probably naked. Come and interview me if y’want. You’re probably falling behind on your reports, aren’t you?”

And then he’s gone and Josh is angry.

He just keeps letting this egotistical psychopath make a fool out of him.  
Maybe it’s because he really is scared.

Or maybe he just hasn’t found Tyler’s weak spot yet.

•

Things are...difficult. Josh is utterly, bitterly alone.

All he gets are texts from Debby saying how she just needs some time to herself, to relax with friends, how _yes_ , work knows she’s gone.  
Sometimes, the back of his mind thinks that this is her way of asking for a divorce. Has Tyler really come that far between them? He’d only been there a little over two weeks when she left.

It’s now almost been two months and Josh is deteriorating. November 29th, his phone says.  
Every report he sends in to Brendon feels weaker than the last.

Tyler is his muse, his every thought, his every blood cell and movement and word.  
Every day is a fight with his own self conscious about whether he should feel terrible for letting Tyler do the things he does, or write it off as another mental breakdown. He’ll get better.

And by mental breakdown, he means trying to gather more information about Tyler’s past and ending up fucking him against the wall.  
Or the table.  
The couch, the sink, the _stairs_.

Wherever Tyler conveniently pulls him into a nasty, lustful kiss, hands greedy and movements fast. It’s just how he said he always liked it-quick, sloppy, and rough. Nothing like their first time. They’re there for orgasms, not sweet talk.  
It’s a drug. Josh is addicted. He can’t ever just say _no_.

The most memorable might be during an interview, where Tyler was giving his normal answers until he just..stopped.  
Josh asked what the issue was and was pulled across the table into a kiss that surprised the hell out of him, but was pleasantly stress-relieving.  
Tyler got fucked over the table and the whole thing was recorded on the tape Josh forgot to turn off.

It was deleted shortly after.

They have fun. It’s fun, right? Tyler makes sure it’s fun.

Some might call it Stockholm Syndrome, in his own home.

He can’t even call it his own home anymore, Tyler practically runs the show.  
Josh and Jim are the two castaways trying ever so hard to gain the approval of their captain. Jim is hardly seen half the time, and Josh finds him hiding under their bed a lot.  
He probably misses Debby.

Everyone misses Debby. Josh even finds himself crying late into one night because of how much he hopes this isn’t them drifting apart, that these trips she’s taking aren’t her way of saying they’re through.

She just needs girl time. She’s human, just like everyone else.

Josh is human, just like everyone else. And everyone makes mistakes. Right?

Tyler is..  
Tyler is not human.

•

It’s midnight when Josh wakes to thumping noises. Weird noises, he should say, not exclusively thumping.  
He really doesn’t want to go downstairs but he _has_ to. This might be his only chance to prove his authority over Tyler.

Or probably a burglar currently stealing everything they own.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, however-in the pitch dark for fear of what he’d see when he turns them on-the thumping noises get louder, along with..scratching. They get louder in the area between the living and dining room.  
Like Jim’s paws on the hardwood floor.

Josh flicks the living room light on.

”Shh!” Tyler hisses at him. He’s covered in blood. He’s covered in _Jim’s_ blood. The clothes he’s been wearing the whole time he’s been here have been scratched at and splattered with red.  
Jim was scrambling for his life. That’s what Josh heard. His last movements, a desperate attempt to get away from Tyler.

There’s blood along his hands, smeared up his neck and even on his face, like some sickening Halloween makeup.  
There’s a knife on the floor. The exact knife Tyler was caught with so fucking long ago. It’s one of Debby’s specialty ones-red handle, sharper than any others. It was made exclusively for her, her name is even engraved on the blade.  
How it’s in Tyler’s hands again is a whole mystery unto itself.

Josh is frozen. Frozen and hyperventilating until Tyler rushes to him, _touching_ him with fingers covered in his dog’s fucking blood and fur.

”What the fuck are you doing?” Josh manages to choke out. He really doesn’t want to cry. Jim looks so horribly mangled, his long golden fur tangled and matted with blood, mouth still opened in his last yelp.

”Shh,” Tyler says again, holding a finger to his lips. “He’s okay. It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

Josh pushes past Tyler’s mock-soothing form, and doesn’t even know where to start.  
God, his dog, he never thought-his _dog_..

_I’m so sorry._

”Why?”  
He’s crying now, simply because staring straight at his beautiful puppy, whom he brought home when he was just 4 months, who’s now dead with a horrifyingly sloppy slit throat, is possibly one of the most gruesome things he’s ever seen.  
Watching human beings die slowly in hospital beds or lose their minds in mental institutions was nothing compared to having something so horrific happen in his own home. Jim was his birthday present from Debby. They’d been inseparable ever since. Why didn’t he think of protecting this poor creature sooner?

Debby. How is he going to tell Debby? Is she even coming back?

Tyler doesn’t answer him. He turns around.  
“Why? Why did you do this? What are you trying to gain? Why are you trying to ruin my fucking life?”

Each question takes him a step closer until he has Tyler slammed against the wall, peeking up at him with bored, dead eyes and a smirk on his face.  
“Hit me,” Tyler challenges. “Look what I did. Doesn’t that make you wanna take a fucking swing?”

”Answer me,” Josh spits. “Why. What are you trying to gain by doing this?”  
He’s never felt so angry, so resentful and horribly disgusted by anyone before. Why is he even asking? Tyler has no motivation. He just wants to ruin lives.

”I let those questions answer themselves,” Tyler replies calmly, and it’s confusing. It’s manipulating.

So Josh hits him.

The first time it feels great, and the second time it feels even better. Tyler takes every punch and smack and kick like a champ until he collapses onto his knees, though Josh isn’t stopping.

”Kill me,” Tyler says, iron on his tongue. It bubbles from his lips. He spits onto the floor and it’s dark red. “I know you want to.”

Blows to his face, his ribs, his stomach cause him to wheeze, doubling over onto the floor. Blood pours from his nose like a faucet and his lip is split wide open. It feels like everything is starting to swell, but Tyler knows it’s just his body fixing him up with bruises. Sweet, beautiful bruises.  
Something has to be broken. Josh doesn’t know his own strength. He just keeps going.

Over and over and over until Tyler is even more of a bloody mess, mixing his own with Jim’s. Josh has to stop himself when he’s kicking _relentlessly_ into Tyler’s side. He’s gotten him on the floor and the brunette doesn’t look entirely conscious.

He twitches, mouth parted to let shaky, hoarse breaths out. In, out, in, out. It feels great.

And then it’s quiet.

Control. Control is what Josh needs.  
Over himself, over Tyler.

It’s okay. Everything is okay. He’s okay. He’s going to take Tyler to the lab and keep him there and run _every fucking test he can_ until Brendon can’t help but announce his victory.  
And take this little demon back.

It’s not like he can preemptively just say _well, sorry, Brendon, but I’m a pussy and can’t finish this project! Here’s your crazy prisoner back, hope you don’t think any less of me!_  
He’s going to carry this out to the end, whether it makes him or breaks him.

Tyler is limp in his arms when he picks the broken thing up, eyelashes fluttering against rolled back eyes. He’s breathing, but it’s shallow.  
Josh can feel a few broken ribs but that’s about it. He’ll fix him up. He’ll keep him downstairs. Remove him from his personal life.

And then clean up the mess in the living room.

•

”It’s my birthday,” Tyler says. He’s handcuffed again. In fact, he’s been handcuffed for two days now. He just woke up all bound together a few days ago.

There is what feels like a cast tightly wound around his middle, making it hard to breathe. His bottom lip is swollen and everything is sore. He can’t imagine what his body looks like. His arms are littered with bruises.

Josh is busy. He’s always busy, apparently. He treats him like a prisoner, like a patient, not some fuckbuddy that killed his dog.  
Jim is buried in the backyard, a makeshift cross adorned with his collar being the solemn grave marker. Josh sat and cried in the frosted air and begged for forgiveness. He’d never let this happen again.

Focus.

“I know.”

He turns around from the lab bench holding a phone. The screen is cracked on the side, with an expensive looking flower-coated case protecting it. When the home button is pressed, it’s a picture of Josh and Debby on their wedding day.  
He sets it in front of Tyler, who stares at it. He always fucking stares.

”Nice phone,” He says.

”It’s not mine,” Josh snaps. “You know whose it is.”

”Do I?”

He sits across from Tyler, hands folded. He’s really trying to be patient right now.  
“This is my wife’s phone,” He starts, opening it to a slew of texts between them.  
“And these are texts she’s supposedly been sending me for the past few weeks.”

Tyler looks up at him, unamused.  
“Shouldn’t the tape be rolling? I feel like I’m in the police interrogation room again.”

”Where is Debby, Tyler?”

He rests his face in his palm, acting bored. “I don’t know. You should probably keep better tabs on her, though, don’t you think?”

Josh takes a deep breath. “Why was her phone sending texts pretending to be her when it was here all along?”

Tyler waves a restrained hand through the air.  
“Magic.”

Josh stands up quickly and Tyler doesn’t flinch. He sets his jaw and leans back, hands still cuffed into the divot in the table.  
“You’re getting desperate,” He observes. “What are we going to bargain?”

”I’m not bargaining with you,” Josh spits. “You’re going to tell me where my fucking wife is, or I’ll make sure you’ll never see a day where you aren’t in constant pain.”

Tyler blows a raspberry at him.

”Boo. You’re no fun. Plus...” He smiles. “You must’ve forgot that that’s my big, nasty kink.”

A single-sided laugh echoes through the lab.  
“It’s fine. We have different senses of humor.” He pauses, as if he’s thinking hard about his next move.  
”How about this-if you uncuff me, I’ll show you where she is.”  
Seems like a fair enough deal, right?

Josh feels his heart leap into his throat. Where she is? It leaves too much to the imagination.  
“Is she alive?”

Tyler hums. “The cuffs.”

The response is immediate.  
“No.”  
Josh can’t risk it. It’s all building up on the brink of insanity now, he can’t afford to lose his own life to this.

Tyler sucks on his teeth, eyeballing the room around him. “That’s cool. Understandable, I suppose-I mean, I wouldn’t want someone like me free roaming in my house, either, but...you’ve already made that mistake, haven’t you?”

”Shut up.”

”-And not only have you taken me in, you’ve developed a _relationship_. You like to fuck me better than your own wife!” Tyler stops to laugh again, that same cackle that rang in Josh’s ears those months ago when they first met.  
“And now you can’t get me out of your head. You’re addicted to me. I fucking _run_ you, Joshua Dun. No matter how much you chain me up, I will always be there to point you in the wrong direction.”

Josh is shaking when Tyler leans forward, eyes narrowed.  
“I’m a fucking parasite, and you’re my new host.”

He chews on his wounds, tonguing the scabbed area on his bottom lip until it reopens and bleeds down his chin slowly.  
“I highly recommend you take these handcuffs off, now.”

Josh swallows thickly and does what he’s told. Because he has to.

Tyler pecks him on the cheek. “Thanks, babydoll. Follow me.”

He does. Like a drunken fool, he follows, bumbling along and sniffling away tears. He really hopes Debby is just tied up somewhere, exhausted from screaming and a little bruised, but still alive.  
He really hopes that’s the case.

”You’ve been getting a lot of takeout recently,” Tyler says as they parade through the house he now knows like the back of his hand. “Or not eating at all. Kind of makes me sad.”

He takes Josh into their pantry, where he fumbles with the deep freezer pushed in the back for a moment.  
“Say hi!” He chirps, and back away for Josh to see.

When he does step forward tentatively, already crying because of the circumstances, he throws up.

Little labeled bags, just like the ones he saw in the evidence files. With dates on them, even.  
_Loin. Filet. Thigh, rib, calf, muscle._

Josh’s wife has become Tyler’s next meal.

He’s bent over the freezer, still hacking up the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He’s shaking like a leaf, the images of bloody, red, frozen hunks of meat forever burned into his mind.  
His vision is so blurry he can’t even stand up straight.

He doesn’t know what Tyler’s doing. He doesn’t care. He could die right now and everything would be fine.

He hears muffled laughing behind him, like Tyler is trying to conceal it but is failing.  
“Don’t you see?” He snaps. “There’s no one else now. It’s just you and me. Everyone and everything you’ve loved has become my horrible little victim.” He breathes shakily, like he just can’t fucking control himself. “It’s all come down to us, baby.”

Josh chokes on a sob. “You did all of this just so we could _be together_?”  
It’s like one of those God damn Lifetime movies.

Tyler chokes on his own laughter, bent over like he’s fighting to stop it. He smacks the side of his head, trying to get something out.  
“Oh my God, I’m cracking up,” He says, breathless and high on how _funny_ this is.  
“Get a grip, Tyler!”

Josh sees a gun being pulled from Tyler’s pocket and all of the sudden his entire life is on the line.  
Everything clicks into place.

Tyler swallows down a few wheezes, a smile still forcing its way onto his face.  
”I did it because I didn’t want any fucking witnesses.”

He’s pointing a pistol at Josh’s head-the very same pistol kept in a gun safe deep within his closet just in case intruder’s ever entered the house. Or if Tyler ever acted up.  
“Debby’s birthday? Really?” He chuckles. “That passcode was too fucking easy, Josh, I don’t know why you didn’t expect me to get ahold of this sooner.”

Josh doesn’t know what to say. He just stands, mouth opening and closing because nothing seems to be right for this situation. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.  
Could he call the cops? He could try and use the old “ordering a pizza” playoff, but Tyler would probably figure that out anyway, even if he actually let him use a phone.

His is downstairs, anyway.

Tyler jerks his head his way. “Come here.”

Josh is pulled into another kiss by the collar of his shirt and Tyler eats up all of his tears. The gun is right beside his head and his entire being seems to have stopped functioning.  
“Look at me,” Tyler purrs, shaking fingers aligned on Josh’s temples-as well as the pistol.

He smiles.  
“Beautiful.”

And then fires a round into the wall, right beside Josh’s head.  
It’s so loud his right ear goes completely silent for a while.

”But I won’t hesitate,” Tyler finishes. “Now let’s go.”

Josh wants to ask _where are we going?_ but he really doesn’t want to get shot. So he just follows.  
His very first hostile situation. Huh. Always thought it would be in a convenience store or something.

”Ooh, we have choices-!” Tyler says cheerily when they reach the garage. There are three cars-Debby’s black SUV, an (also black) Jeep, for camping, and a small white Honda Josh drives to work.

Tyler picks that one.

”Have to make sure we can outrun the cops, right?” He says, locking the doors with the child safety lock when Josh sits down.  
“Can’t have you running out, or yelling for help.”

He starts up the car and pauses for a moment.  
“Hey.”

Josh looks at him, heart in his throat. There’s a hand on his thigh.  
“Smile,” Tyler tells him, and starts backing out.

It’s snowing. Josh doesn’t smile.  
“You know,” Tyler ponders aloud. “You’d think 8 years in prison would’ve made me forget how to drive.”  
The roads are slick-they haven’t even been iced or plowed yet since it’s too late in the afternoon.

Tyler runs a hand through his hair and gives Josh’s thigh a squeeze. ”Guess you’d be right.”

He keeps the gun on his left side even though he shoots with his right, just because he knows Josh would try to take it and turn the tables on him.  
He probably doesn’t even know how to work the damn thing.

”When did you kill her?” Josh asks hoarsely. He’s still shaken from crying, from the realization of his wife’s death, from the grief that keeps hitting him harder and harder every few minutes. He knows Tyler wrote dates on the ziplock bags, but he was too delirious to actually read them.

“About a day or two before we fucked,” Tyler answers. “I caught her sneaking out around 3 AM and snapped her neck. Did all the dirty work while you were sleeping through the nights.”  
He hums, fingers thrumming against the wheel. Snow flurries past their windows in blurry streams as he turns onto a freeway.  
“I was right, you know. About the cheating. You should’ve looked through her phone more often.”

That makes it all feel so much better. Josh places his hand over Tyler’s and stares out the window, eyes too tired to cry again.  
_Maybe it’s for the best,_ he tries to think. _Maybe Tyler wasn’t in the wrong._

They’re going much too fast for a snow-slicked freeway, even if the speed limit is 70.  
“Where are we going?” Josh croaks.

Tyler stares ahead at the road, determined and battle-worn. “We’re going,” He answers. “Just going. Away.”

Right.  
The heater is on full blast but Josh can’t stop shivering.

”I knew when you wanted to have me stay in your house that I’d get away from that stupid fucking place,” Tyler says, elaborating on the question Josh won’t ask.  
_Why?_

”I was going to kill all of you at first, and then just make a run for it.”  
He intertwined his fingers with Josh’s.  
“But then I saw your face.”

He laughs. “And I thought, ‘there’s no way I can leave him behind. He’s coming with me.’”  
A thought runs through his head.  
“Of course, I had to be a good boy for a long time. Had to make sure I was trustworthy enough for you. For Brendon.”

”I’m glad,” Josh says weakly.

His stomach starts to churn, not only because the roads are so unreliable, but because something doesn’t feel right-and maybe it’s just his nervous senses, but the car doesn’t feel steady on the road.

”You’d be coming with me,” Tyler murmurs. “Anywhere I went.”  
Josh gives him a worried look. The flurries speed up in the wind outside the window.  
“I love you,” He says warily, maybe to try and stop whatever’s about to happen, or maybe because he feels these will be his last words.

Tyler smiles again. It’s like this is the happiest he’s been in these past few months.  
“You’re beautiful, Josh,” He says, echoing himself from what seems like forever ago.  
His foot pushes the gas pedal down as far as it will go and Josh has just enough time to let out a scream before they’re diving into a divider and flipping upside down.

It’s all crunching and ringing and screeching.

•

Tyler wakes up with his hands behind his back. What’s new.  
It’s freezing, all he can hear are sirens and shouting and people saying his name over and over and over. It’s stopped snowing.  
“Hey,” He says, arching his back against the officers pushing him towards a cop car. When did they get ahold of him? Everything must be flashing in and out of reality.  
“No, no, this isn’t-this isn’t my fault, you don’t-“

He begins to thrash, kicking away until the slick road beneath him lets him escape to the mangled car smashed into the side of the freeway divider.  
“You don’t _understand_ , I didn’t do this, I wasn’t hurting hi-“  
He stops, feet scraping along the iced road when he sees the ambulance. He slips and falls to his knees and feel ice dig into the palms of his hands. They didn’t even bother to put real handcuffs on him yet.

He feels really dizzy.

Josh is on a stretcher. He’s not awake. The car is cut open. Tyler starts wheezing again.

”You have to let me see him,” He says, then repeats it louder. Some people glance his way, but most of them don’t. He toddles to his feet and starts running for the paramedics.

He ignores the burning pain in his chest, his right leg. Something’s stuck in there, apparently. His healing ribs are all fucked up again.  
His head won’t stop fucking _vibrating_.

Faintly, he can hear reporters trying to snitch about all of this to eager audiences sitting at home.  
He wonders if Brendon ever watches the news.

There are hands on him again, dragging him away screaming at the paramedics taking Josh away.  
“Don’t _fucking_ touch me-!” He spits, and tries his damnedest to elbow one of these bastards in the ribs. They won’t stop spouting off his stupid rights, and he won’t stop spewing curses at them.  
He stops when a taser hits the middle of his back.

He’s arched, jerking like he would if Josh had hooked him up to the ECT again, except this time it’s more intense. In one spot, just spider-webbing over the rest of his body. In fact, it feels more like a taser _gun_ , shot multiple times into his body to subdue him.  
He tries to stay awake, but sleep is so much easier. His eyes hurt. His legs hurt. His head hurts.

It doesn’t hurt anymore when he’s collapsed in the snow.

•

”You’re lucky to be alive, Mr. Dun. It’s a good thing the paramedics came as quick as they did, or you most likely would’ve died from hypothermia-but you’ve probably figured that out on your own.”

Josh hates the lights in the hospital. It’s something he’s always despised-they’re unnatural and eerie. Maybe it’s just because he’s the patient now and everyone else is the doctor.

Two broken ribs and a fractured wrist are the serious injuries he walks away with. Everything else is just battered and bruised and scabbed.

It’s...hard to remember everything, and when people badger him about the accident, he feels it’s easier to play mute and pretend he’s not feeling well.  
There’s just a pit in the bottom of his stomach that aches for Tyler. He just wants to know what happened.

Everything is so hazy. Josh begs and pushes and even tries to dismiss himself from the hospital, just to go home and mourn. He doesn’t want to be poked at anymore.  
He wants...

He wants Tyler.

•

”Well, we meet again, Mr. Joseph.”

”Suck a fucking dick, Hoffman,” Tyler snarls. The expression on his face is pure hatred. Pure evil, pure _bloodlust_.  
It’s a good thing he’s being watched, the barrel of a gun constantly poking into the back of his neck.

”Lovely seeing you too,” Hoffman-Jacob Hoffman, an older detective with greying dark hair and a full brunette beard, who first took Tyler’s case 8 years ago-says, sighing.  
“Looks like we’ve gotten into some trouble again.”

”It’s not my fault,” Tyler says, eyes constantly flicking around the interrogation room. He can tell which wall is the one way mirror.

Hoffman folds his hands just like Josh does.  
“That’s what you said. But why were you behind the wheel? You have no permit to be driving, let alone leaving the place you were stationed to be at until Dr. Dun’s research was finished. AND, to top that all off, you were armed with a gun that wasn’t yours.” He adjusts his thin frames onto his nose. “Were you having an attack? Were you unable to control your actions?”

Tyler drums his fingers against the table. It’s cold. He’s cold. His body aches from the accident and the tasing he received. Nothing broken, thank God-besides his already previously snapped ribs, which are plastered up again underneath his shirt.  
“You know those are fake,” He replies. “That stupid therapist just wanted her paycheck. I don’t have _attacks_.”

Hoffman sighs through his nose. He likes to sigh a lot, especially in Tyler’s company.  
“Tyler, there’s not much for me to do here, I’m going to be honest with you. The only thing I can figure out is why you did this. You already have three life sentences on your plate, you can’t get any lower-“

”Don’t I get a call?”  
Tyler perks up when he thinks of it. He gets a phone call. He’s just been arrested again. He should get a phone call.

Hoffman furrows his greying eyebrows. “Well...I-I suppose. Who would you be interested in calling anyway?”

Tyler swallows down a laugh and vows to be an obedient nice boy from here on out.  
“Oh,” He purrs. “No one in particular.”

•

Josh gets released a week after the accident. He feels like a robot.

He picks up his medications, takes them with food, patters around his scarily empty house with no one to creep up on him.  
He’d been offered a Witness Protection Program appointment, but turned it down sourly.

He’s not afraid. If anything, he’s empowered.

And that week after being released, he fixes himself up in the same outfit he wore three months ago-even adorning it all with his old bloodstained lab coat.  
_October 3rd. December 15th. Everything feels like one big movie._

Everything is cold when he climbs into the Jeep parked in the garage. The spot next to it is empty, and will stay that way.  
He was told not to drive for a while, for fear of PTSD rearing its combative head, but he grits his teeth and pulls out of the driveway.  
All of the snow has melted. The sun is shining, though it has no use on the bitter cold wind that shakes through the trees.

It’s almost like it is three months ago. It’s almost like Josh really is starting his new plan, his new experiment that will shock the scientific community, that will put him on a pedestal that no one could touch. It’s almost like a fresh start.

Josh is going to Hacksoft Prison with a set jaw and an even bigger plan.

•

“Name?”

Josh pokes his head out the window of his car. “Josh Dun,” He says to the woman in the security box. She’s a pretty brunette who looks like she cares too much.  
She raises her eyebrows and come to attention when he says that.

”You...” She mutters, flipping through paperwork. “You _want_ to go back in there?”  
Ah, she too must have watched the news.

Josh nods. “Just some unfinished business. Gotta pick up stuff, talk to Brendon, you know.”

The woman nods warily, finger pressing into the release button for the gate in front of the prison.  
“Good luck with that,” She says solemnly, then the speaker crackles her voice away.

Josh gives her a thankful wave and takes a deep breath when he pulls into the staff parking lot-though really, he’s not supposed to.  
It’s a lot more inconspicuous this way, however.

It’s all very familiar: the steel walls, the ancient, spooky trees lining the entrance, the dimmed lighting that nearly gives the impression of an abandoned hospital, but really it’s just because Brendon didn’t want a high electric bill.  
Josh sticks his hands in his pockets when he steps up to the heavily guarded secretary’s desk.

He leans down to the tiny opening in the bulletproof plexiglass. “Hi, I’m here to see Tyler Joseph?”

The woman behind the counter has long fingernails and is currently chewing gum and working on a crossword.  
“Tyler Joseph isn’t taking any visitors,” She drawls, as if it’s the hardest thing she’s had to say all day.

Josh chuckles. “Ah, well, I’m his doctor, so..”

The woman-her nametag says Christie-finally raises her head to look Josh in the eye and sighs.  
“You’ll have to wait until visiting hours are over as he’s the highest class prisoner and is not allowed with any other prisoners,” She recites like a robot.

She then presses a button on what looks like an answering machine and Josh is pretty sure she rolls her eyes when she says, “Please prepare Tyler Joseph for a visitor meeting after hours.”

There’s no response and she seems satisfied by that.

”And when are visiting hours over?” Josh asks politely. He’s doing a mighty fine job of not breaking down and crying because of how stressful this all is to him. He hopes no one sees through the façade.

Christie is already sucked back into her crossword. “4:00. You’ll be lucky if they even let you back there.”

It’s 3:00. He can wait.

Hell, he can wait for however long it takes.

•

Tyler _loves_ walking through the walls of this stupid fucking place.

”Aw, look! Little Joseph’s back in for _bad behavior_ ,” Someone spits through a cell plate. There are really only doors through these hallways, but they provide just enough space in the top that snarky voices can barrel their way through.

”Stupid fucking kid, I bet he tried to _eat_ everyone,” Someone else snickers.

”I bet he’s hungry right now-hey, sweetcheeks, you wanna come eat this dick?”

Tyler walks through these pale banana colored halls with two guards who even find themselves giggling at the taunts being thrown at him.  
He does nothing, says nothing, and keeps his eyes forward.  
To be honest, he would much rather be detained in the police department’s little holding cell rather than here, even though he gets heckled in both places.

At least they had television.

”Look at him-he probably couldn’t handle it anyway. Little bitch thinks he’s so tough.”

”I could snap him like a fucking _toothpick_.”

Fingers and partial hands try to grab through the barred spaces in the doors. Tyler tries to keep a steady, calm heartbeat on the way to his cell.

”I heard he fucked his doctor, and that’s why he’s back,” Someone says darkly.

”Why don’t you ever wanna fuck us, pretty boy? We’ll treat ‘ya real nice.”

His blood _boils_. It’s really hard to keep such a temper down.

”Yeah, yeah! I bet he did fuck that doctor. I remember him walking around like he owned the fucking place. Bitch was probably dumb enough to fuck that little whore anyway.”

Tyler hears that and chokes on another laugh.  
The guards behind him aren’t even paying that much attention, so when he jumps over his cuffs and grabs at the fingers poking through the cell of whoever just spoke, they don’t realize it until it’s too late.

”Don’t you ever fucking _talk_ about him like that ever again,” He hisses, grip tightening on this bastard’s fingers. He has the intention of breaking them. “Do you understand me? Look at me. _Look at me_. Do you see yourself walking out of this place as a free man? I don’t think so. What I did was fucking _legendary_.” He spitting when he talks, teeth grit. The man behind the bars is trying desperately to get his fingers back.

”You’re the biggest sack of shit I’ve ever seen. And if I _do_ see you when you’re not hiding in your cell, I swear to _God_ I’ll add another fucking felony onto my track record.”  
The guards have been pulling at him for a minute now, but when the finally get him free the man in the cell backs away from his little window, quiet.

Tyler doesn’t eve fight back, he just struggles for a moment and lets them shove him down the hall completely. Though, he never breaks eye contact with that cell door.

The whole hallway is pretty quiet.

Guess he packs quite a punch in such a small package.

”We’ll be letting Brendon know that you’re having problems with the other prisoners,” One of the guards hisses when they make it to Tyler’s secluded cell. He laughs.

”Perfect. Would you mind telling him to suck my fucking dick while you’re at it?”

The guards crinkle their noses. “You’re on the perfect track for a fucking muzzl-“

”Please prepare Tyler Joseph for a visitor meeting after hours.”  
It comes from the walkie talkies strapped to the guards’ belts. The voice is nasally and bored.

Tyler’s heart _leaps_.

He steps up to the bars of his cell, fingers wrapping around the metal. He’s smiling. He knows exactly who’s here to see him, and the guards probably do too. They grimace when walking out of the room.

”See you soon, boys.”

•

Josh doesn’t like being flanked by security when he walks to the visiting cubicles.  
Something tells him that everyone knows about what happened and are on high alert because of it.

To say he’s nervous is an understatement. He’s terrified. He’s shaking and trying to calm his breath because the doors are opening and a bruised up Tyler is sauntering his way onto the other side of the plexiglass separating them.

All they do is stare for a moment.

It’s so amazing, how far apart they’ve been, how much has changed in a few weeks. Tyler looks older, worn down. He looks tired. His patchy scruff is at its fullest, making him look scrappier than usual. He’s still all busted up from the crash and the fights he’s gotten into.

Josh picks up the phone on his side and presses it to his ear. His voice is shaky and echoes through the empty room as it tumbles through the singular speaker on Tyler’s side.

”I missed you.”

Tyler looks so patient, so very gentle and calm.  
“You’d be the first,” He says. “Not everyone is as excited to see me back.”

His voice is something of a Godsend, and before he knows it, Josh is tearing up. All eyes are on him and it makes his face flush with embarrassment.

”Are you okay?” He asks, swallowing down a choking sob he knows would work its way from his throat eventually.

”I’m fine, Josh,” Tyler says softly. “Are you?”

Josh doesn’t know the answer to that, only that he can’t fucking sit here and try to rekindle through a damn window.  
”I-can I see him? Face to face? Without all this in the way?” He asks, eyes flicking up towards the guards behind Tyler. “Alone?”

They all look skeptical, but Tyler then speaks up.

”I’m not going to hurt him.”  
His tone is timid and genuine and shakes Josh to his core.

”How can we trust that?” Someone barks. They’ve stopped keeping track.

Tyler stares unblinking into Josh’s welled up eyes. “You can’t.”

Well, that’s comforting.

”I trust him,” Josh says almost immediately. He’s not going to give this up. He’s going to fight to the very end.

”I suppose, we do have him on security tape giving consent, so he can’t sue if something happens, as long as it’s...non-consensual,” A guard mumbles to his cohort, a bit disgusted. They can obviously tell what’s going on between these two.  
He clears his throat. “We’ll take you to one of the safe rooms down the A hallway.”

Josh’s knees feel weak when he follows, heart beating so hard it’s almost like he’s in love or something.  
Maybe not love. Obsession, possibly. Manipulation.

It smells like sick and antiseptic when Josh is let into the safe room first. It has one window, a table and chairs, and no cameras. He waits in the middle, trying to calm his own breathing. He really hopes the guards don’t fucking sit and listen to them.

When the heavy metal door creaks open again, Tyler doesn’t have handcuffs on. In fact, he looks freer than Josh has ever seen him, even in his prison uniform.

It’s a stand-off for the first few seconds, just eyes taking in bodies and minds working out plans.

Tyler makes the first move-quickly.

”Look at you,” He says, teeth grit, hands feeling _everywhere_. Josh is pulled so close he feels they might just melt together. Teeth and tongues and lips meet angrily, longingly. Tyler yanks Josh down to size so he doesn’t have to stand on his toes to kiss.

His hands don’t stay in one spot for more then five seconds. “Have you been eating? You’re so thin, babydoll. I expected you to take care of yourself.”  
Fingers brush under Josh’s chin, catching some of the tears that swell over his eyes-the ones he couldn’t catch. He’s so overwhelmed by this broken creature, he loves taking in all of Josh’s horrible emotions.

”Why did you do it?” Is the first thing Josh actually says, hands locked around a pair of swaying hips. His eyebrows furrow together and he knows it’s a touchy subject. But maybe Tyler will come clean.  
“The car accident.”

Tyler tilts his head and lines kisses up his jaw, trying to deter him from that topic.  
“You know that wasn’t my fault, Josh.”

Josh feels his stomach sink. He knows what happened. He saw everything in the police reports, even if he didn’t want to read them at the time.  
”Don’t lie to m-“

Tyler hears those words-perhaps just the word _lie_ -and doesn’t let Josh finish, as he’s shoving the poor thing against the wall, clutching him by the collar of his shirt so hard it sends a jolt through his body.  
“You don’t _know_ what happened. So don’t you dare try to put this on me, d’you understand?”

Josh swallows, mouth opening and closing because well, maybe he doesn’t understand.

Tyler presses him harder against the wall, nose to nose with his beloved little victim. It feels good to be in control of something again.  
“Do. You. Under. Stand.”

”Yes,” Josh chokes out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”  
He is sorry. He is.

The hands touching him are a little more gentle now, the voice a little softer. Now he knows how to appease the one he looks so highly of.

”Good,” Tyler says, sighing. He runs his fingers through Josh’s stringy, ragged hair. “I love you, Josh.”

Another tear slips down Josh’s cheek. “I love you, too.”  
It doesn’t feel as empty as he once thought. And maybe Tyler is controlling all of this, shoving him into a false sense of security just so he can finish the job the car accident didn’t do.  
Josh has diagnosed PTSD that he wakes up with every night now, sweating and crying and screaming because it plays over and over in his mind.  
Debby. The gun. The car. The snow.

”You need to get me out of here,” Tyler interrupts. “Are you listening to me?”

Josh nods absentmindedly, head rested against the cool wall behind him. He can do that. Only because he’s not sure he can walk out of this place without Tyler in step with him.

”There’s a high level clearance security exit,” Tyler continues, hands tucked in Josh’s back pockets while he nuzzles up his throat. “On the roof. Climb down the ladder and it takes us straight out of here.”

Josh blinks, eyes trained on the ceiling. “How do you know this?”

”Guards used to take me up there to suck their dicks.”  
Tyler detaches himself from Josh and starts fiddling with the window. “Poor fellas have to live in here with us, I don’t blame them for wanting to have some fun with a pretty face.”

Josh just watches. “You haven’t done anything since we’ve been apart, have you?”  
He sounds like a jealous girlfriend, hands clenched at his sides because the thought of Tyler getting down on his knees for someone else makes his blood boil.  
So of course he’s going to help him escape.

”Never,” Tyler answers immediately, and takes one set of bars off the window. He mumbles something about stupid 18th century manufacturing and shakes his head.  
To be truthful, he may or may not have gotten fucked by the chief of police when he was being interrogated again, just so he didn’t have to go through another trial and see Josh suffer in court.

It was an okay time. Not that Tyler really knows the difference between fucking and making love, as he’s never done the latter.

”C’mere,” He says now, beckoning Josh over with a half-hearted wave. “Crack the seal on this. Quickly. I know they’ll be coming back any time now.”

Josh does what he’s told, and the window exudes years and years of dust, making it almost reasonable that when they open it it just falls out of the building onto the ground below.  
“Okay,” Tyler says, head stuck out the hole in the wall. “New plan. I had no idea we were on the first floor. Just jump out and run.”

That sounds fun. Before they go, Tyler strips until he’s shirtless and Josh can’t stop staring.  
He’s never seen those tattoos. Or the bar piercings that stick through his nipples. They’re cute.

”Go!” Tyler shouts at him.

Josh hits the dead grass with a thud and helps Tyler down-even on the first floor he’s still short enough to not reach the bottom-and they run.  
“Where’s your car?” Tyler asks while Josh tries to keep up the pace.

He just points to the employee parking lot, wheezing.

”You’re driving this time.”

It’s not surprising that alarms go off when the cameras detect movement on the perimeter of the building, or maybe the guards just so happened to walk back in as they were escaping, but either way, they’re both criminals on the run now.

They fall into the Jeep just a little more breathless than when they started. Tyler can’t stop grinning in the moment, then resumes his authoritative position.  
”Do not go home, we need to throw them off,” He orders, constantly checking around them as Josh peels out of the parking lot. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe he’s doing this.

Oh God, he’s a felon now.

”Go through the security gate,” Tyler says, popping the horrid thought bubble surrounding Josh’s head. He does, and he can hear the yelling of the woman he spoke to just hours before all of this. Wood splinters everywhere and he’s pretty sure one of his headlights is broken now.  
It was so simple just hours ago, huh?

Maybe Brendon let them escape, or maybe his men were too slow on the draw, but they don’t even hear sirens behind them when Josh pulls onto the freeway.  
“Probably calling the actual police,” Tyler mutters, perched on the window, scanning the cars around them.

”We have to ditch this car.”

Josh glances over and sees a plethora of hotels and other tall buildings. They’re in the city now.  
“Over there?” He asks. Tyler nods. “Park it far away, in a ditch or something. We’ll stay in a hotel and then get a cab tomorrow. Just lay low.”

It’s funny, how fast these plans hatch in his mind. It’s almost like he’s done this before.

•

They fuck when they get to a decent hotel an even more decent way away from the abandoned Jeep. It’s grounding, somehow, feeling together as one again.  
Maybe Tyler was just full of pent up hormones and needed to get them out only in the form of riding Josh until his thighs started to chafe.

Something still settles in the bottom of Josh’s stomach, though, like he shouldn’t be doing this. Tyler sleeps on his chest and he can’t seem to do the same.

Morning comes quicker than expected.

•

”Anywhere in particular?” The cab driver asks. He draws out his words-probably to extend the time limit and get more cash. Do they charge like that in Columbus?  
Tyler practically had to chase him down, as every single cab seemed to ignore the hailing of passerby’s on the street.

“Away. Like, a really far off place,” Tyler says, then thinks for a moment, glancing at Josh’s pale complexion. “Anywhere you’ve always wanted to go?”

”...Texas?”

Tyler presses a thick bundle of hundreds-almost everything from Josh’s savings sits in his hands.  
“Texas, then.”

The driver’s face seems to light up and he gladly starts off on the road.  
Tyler leans back in his seat and pulls Josh’s hand into his.  
“We’re gonna be okay,” He says.

”Mmhm,” Josh mumbles. He feels sick. He feels dirty. He needs some new clothes and a proper night’s sleep and some decent food and a brand new conscience that will stop making him feel awful for what he’s doing.  
But now he just sounds whiny. Tyler is taking care of them.

He trusts Tyler.

•

_”Two adult males, one being a young doctor in his early thirties, Joshua Dun, and the other the dangerous criminal, 26 year old Tyler Joseph, who was recently charged with the attempted murder of Dun and the murder of Dun’s wife, Debby. More on who to call if they are spotted, and where to look, tonight at 9.”_

The radio crackles and lazy fingers turn it to a different station. The world outside this tiny car has started to turn into dusted roads and desolate landscapes.

”Crazy,” Tyler says, eyes trained on the grey skies of Texas rolling past the windows. “It’s such a shame-what the world has come to.”

Their driver-who’s name is Patrick, they find out-nods. “They say this Tyler kid eats people. _People_ , can you believe that? Some of these psychos just need the electric chair with no trial.”

Tyler leans over, lips ghosting on the shell of Josh’s ear.  
“They tried, but my lawyer got me out of it,” He whispers with a giggle.

Josh feigns a smile, but continues looking out the window. They’re almost free. They’re almost gone. He can almost stop worrying.  
Instead he absentmindedly thinks about what it will be like when they finally arrive at some shitty hotel (probably) with nothing but the clothes on their backs and Josh’s hundred of thousands of dollars in savings.

He wonders if anyone will find them eventually. Will they have to change their names? He’s always wanted to be called Alexander. That would be cool.

It’s buckling down in his mind: this is his life, and, like it or not, he’s going to have to make it work somehow.  
He squeezes Tyler’s hand and is glad he has someone so sturdy to keep him steady. He wouldn’t have even made it out of the prison if it weren’t for Tyler.

He’s so lucky. How did he get so lucky? He got to bring this magnificent creature into his home, treat him like one of his own.  
He thinks about all the paperwork, all the files and tapes and interview records collecting dust in his office.

Well, maybe not collecting dust. If the press knows about Debby’s death they no doubt have searched his house through and through.  
They know something had to have gone awry. He just hopes they don’t think he was partially responsible for her death. He never wanted her to die.  
He never wanted anyone to die, but being around Tyler now, he suspects he should probably get used to it.

Tyler has been touching him the whole ride, whether it was in the form of holding his hand or leaning his head against his shoulder. He needs the connection.  
And he’s so glad he’s finally found the one he’ll ride and die with.

Whether Josh likes it or not.

”Well, boys, welcome to the Lone Star State,” Patrick announces as they drive through a huge, modern city. Dallas, maybe? Houston?

”Can you pull in somewhere? Like a parking garage?” Tyler asks innocently. “I think I have a relative who lives in the apartments over there.” He points to a large building that says _Oakley Acres Apartments_.  
He’s never seen these apartments in his life. But there’s a parking garage next to them and it seems like the perfect spot.

”Sure thing. You’ll pay the rest of the money upfront I assume?” Patrick asks, and the car thuds over speed bumps. He’ll drive anywhere as long as Tyler is giving up those dozens of hundred dollar bills clenched in his fist.

”Of course,” Tyler says.

Josh swallows nervously. What is Tyler doing? They’ve never been here before-at least, he hasn’t, if he didn’t make that clear already.

”Up-yeah, here is good,” Tyler directs, and the only other cars on this level are all the way across from where they are. Very secluded. No one ever suspects a car park.  
Patrick puts the car in park.

Tyler starts to rifle through the money, eyes flicking up. Josh tries to signal him with a concerned glance, but he ignores it.  
“You know, it’s really good that you wear your seatbelt all the time.”

”Yeah, it is, isn’t it? I feel like it’s sort of out of practice these day-“

Tyler has dropped the money, fingers clutched around the seatbelt that is pulled around Patrick’s neck now.  
He gags on the pressure, and Tyler pulls it tighter.  
Josh covers his ears and sticks his head between his legs. He knew Tyler would fucking pull something like this. They couldn’t have just paid and left.

”Shh,” Tyler mumbles, eyelashes fluttering when he sees Patrick’s skin start to turn blue. “Let it go. Sleep.”

His knuckles turn white against the weak fighting Patrick is trying to give, mainly because his body is begging for oxygen that Tyler won’t give it.

He goes limp after exactly three minutes, twenty seconds. Tyler counts.

”Josh.”

He touches a set of curls. “Look at me.”

Josh is crying again. “I’m sorry,” He says sloppily. “I’m sorry. It’s so scary, I-I can’t watch you do that. God, you just-you just _killed_ someone, Tyler, why? He didn’t even do anything.”  
He’s just too soft. Tyler likes it when he cries, though.

He gathers their small amount of belongings-and takes the money he already gave from Patrick’s shirt pocket. “Witnesses, Josh. Did you trust him enough not to snitch if we were offered up for a reward?”

Josh stays quiet.

”Did you?”

He deflates. “..No.”

Tyler pushes the back door open. “Exactly. Now let’s go.”

•

”Look at this one,” Tyler purrs. The cigarette stuck between his lips gives him an impediment. “I get a mugshot and you get some sort of glamor photo.”

He’s poking at a newspaper littered with their faces. They’re still criminals at large, yet no one seems to know where they’ll go next.

Josh ruffles his freshly showered hair. “I think it’s because I haven’t been arrested, dummy.”

Tyler flicks his ashes onto the hotel comforter he sits on. “Guess so.”  
He likes keeping up on the news. There’s something that drives him a little more knowing that he’s playing that dangerous game, that he might just have to slit the receptionist’s throat tonight just so she doesn’t know they were here.  
He likes leaving a bloody, untraceable trail.

Hell-He’ll just have Josh do it. First time for everything, right?

••

”You know,” Josh mumbles one night, still naked and panting out his ragged breaths. “We could get married.”

Tyler drools on his bare shoulder, eyes locked on the dim-lighted wall across from him. He raises his eyebrows sleepily. “We could.”

”It is Vegas, after all.”

He nods, bare head rubbing against softer skin. They’re going to have to re-shave their heads again, though Josh is missing having something to grab ahold of.  
Tyler stretches his lower body, yawning.  
“Vegas.”

They’ll talk more tomorrow. After all, what’s the rush? They have all the time in the world to sit and listen to each other breathe. They’ve yanked time from the hands of every person who’s ever looked at them funny.

It’s been a whole year since they ran. Since Josh threw away his old life and jumped into this one, with Tyler, always moving, always seeing new things, always learning wonderfully more fun new things about the human body.

Did you know you could bite a finger off with the same amount of pressure as a carrot?

It’s an acquired taste.

”I can be a housewife,” Tyler rambles aloud fingers now running up and down his own tattooed chest. Him and Josh got matching ones a while back.  
Names are cliché, but they certainly are forever, too. Tyler likes rubbing his thumb over his inked-in name when he’s on his knees for Josh. Josh likes sucking marks around his name when Tyler’s thighs are spread for him.

Tyler sniffles. Josh thinks he’s getting a cold, but he worries too much.  
“I’ll cook for you every night. Clean the house. Sit and wait for you to come home, suck your dick, all that stuff.”

”That sounds nice,” Josh says, as if he didn’t already have that so long ago. “We’ll have a big house with a pool, and you could get whatever you wanted, all the time. I’d spoil you.”

The way he talks sounds so confident you’d think they were actually going through with all this.  
They’ve had their ups and downs, their near-death scares (Tyler now has a long scar leading up his left thigh and Josh’s is curved underneath his left eye.) and their winning moments (Josh has seen almost every state in the country and Tyler has tasted almost every person in every state in the country.) but it all boils down to the two of them coexisting. Forever. The plans they make aren’t one-sided, they’re always executed as one.

Maybe that says something about Josh. Maybe he isn’t so different from Tyler.

He yawns, finishing up his dreamy bumble. “We’d have the perfect life. Could we get a pet?”

Tyler putters out a tiny snore, signaling that he’s already fallen asleep, though Josh knows the answer would be no anyway.  
His lips are parted and his face is stuck in that raised-eyebrow-questioning expression. It’s cute.

Josh wouldn’t trade him for the world. He watches his beloved sleep, chest rising and falling in a perfect pattern. He knows he himself won’t be sleeping for a while. Nightmares keep him up too much, but it’s nothing serious to worry about.

In the meantime, he wonders who tomorrow’s dinner will be.

**Author's Note:**

> how’s my driving? leave a request, question, or suggestion with our service desk and we’ll get back to you within 2-5 business days.


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